You look at me
without judgement,
yet I feel something shift
behind your silent gaze.

Every morning we meet here,
you and I,
two faces of the same body
trying to understand each other.

Sometimes I see someone I know.
Sometimes, a stranger.
Sometimes, someone waiting
for permission to breathe.

You say nothing,
but your questions are loud.
Are you content?
Who are you trying to be today?

I don't touch the glass,
yet it feels like we collide.
Or merge.
Or both.

And when I walk away,
you remain,
quiet and patient
for the next encounter.