You asked was I waiting for someone, and I said yes.
I think you must have thought I said
No, because you
Kept standing there,
Like expecting me to explain.
Or maybe you were just waiting for someone, too.
Anyway, you looked nice enough,
(I think axe-murderers are supposed to have a certain
Look about them,
Or was that war veterans?)
But we weren’t waiting together.
Just both waiting.
So we stayed like that and you didn’t
Speak because you could tell I was looking at you,
And I could tell you were looking at me.
I didn’t speak either until you sneezed and I said,
“Gesundheit.” Then I wondered,
Should I have said Bless You instead?
But what if you weren’t religious,
And I offended you? (Then again, probably you weren’t
German, and I had offended you anyway.)
Actually I wasn’t so much
Waiting, as I was
Hoping, thinking somebody might come,
And knowing really that they wouldn’t.
It felt wrong to stay sitting there,
Like I was lying to you. When you
Were supposed to be there (were you?)
And I never was.
Or wasn’t anymore.
So I stood up and walked away, and I knew
You thought it was because of you.
But there wasn’t really anything I could do then,
Except smile by way of goodbye,
And try not to look too much like I was
Thinking, “It’s not you, it’s me.”