stranger

walking down a narrow hallway
my elbow grazes the walls
and the weight of my hips shifts sideways so that i can pass you.
for one brief moment
my breath catches --
your scent reminds of of a place and time i don't wish to revisit.
like 40 days in exile, i slide my back against the wall
and this encounter merges with my memory.
two places at once, suspended in time;
and i make something out of nothing
and the wheels begin spinning,
but my face remains calm.

i wonder how wide a rift can exist between two people
lying side by side
because i imagine a chasm from which you cannot return.

two six pound weights come to mind
as i am thrust back into reality
and i return to this moment
to watch you walk away.