Well Met
Well met—
I said it only to the air,
when distance dressed you
in a kind of care.
My eyes rehearsed
the art of looking past,
afraid my pulse
would trip, be cast.
No names were traded,
no doors were crossed,
yet something ancient
changed its cost.
Time thinned—
a courteous delay,
the way eclipses
choose their day.
I did not touch you.
Still, I knew—
the heart keeps records
light can’t undo.
We parted whole,
without a start—
well met, forever,
in the heart.