Stalker

You had me in the palm of your hand.

I dream about you
more often than sometimes
and occasionally put together.

I've memorized every detail of your face
and I had etched it in my mind
so that even when I close my eyes
it would feel as if

I'm still gazing,
still drowning,
in the impalpable
depths of your soul.

I died and was resurrected,
on that one time,
when your arm touched mine
and the warmth of your skin
penetrated
through my skin and my bones
to my nerves
to the core of my life
and my world that only revolves around you.

That one-tenth of a second stretched for more than what
it should be,
as if all the clocks in the world
got worn out for keeping track of time.

But time caught up and
the moment ended.
I'm still half-dreaming from
that brief encounter
--- rooted to the spot
until you were a gone,
fading from view,
dissolving into the throngs
of people streaming into the hallway.


You didn't even glance my way.