In a room full of other souls,
between dancing lights and floating noise,
six feet apart across the table,
sat two foolish people—
barely brave enough to hold each other’s gaze.

If you wonder why I didn’t look your way—
maybe you already knew; we did it on purpose.
Each time I turned away, my head would reel—
your smile didn’t just light the room,
it sparked the rooms behind my closed doors.

You took a few long strides past me,
pretending not to see.
I kept glancing down, pretending not to notice.
When I stepped outside I wished—
for a shadow in black fabric to follow,
to close that small distance, to meet my eyes,
to say what both of us only dared imagine.

I can’t erase these glimpses of you.
You give me smiles without a single word.
We don’t say each other’s names—
yet why does it feel like there’s a string at our fingers?
A pull that almost moves us, but never far enough.

I’ll keep this moment close to my chest—
awkward pride and all.
At least I know you saw me smile.
And I saw yours.

I felt like we knew each other.