Two Ships in the Night
I. Our imprints mark the same halls, books in hand, class in session,
the same paths midday.
You with a blue slurpee tongue, carefree and loud,
me with a bagged lunch and a head full of reflection.
II. Our imprints mark the same campus grounds;
past the student center and library; past the yellow tulips come spring.
You working in the lab and roaming rambunctious streets after midnight,
me writing profiles and pining for dates as autumn unfolds.
III. Pieces of us are left there and there,
places we shared when we meant nothing to one another.
We were like two ships in the night, passing through and biding time,
waiting until we were both ready to stand still at a crossing.