Professional (in the far future)

by letterzee

People swarming towards the white hallways

A glint of sunlight play with a pair of circular specs

And that’s how I spot you;

And apparently you’ve marked me on, too.

Right foot, left foot.

Walking with your leather shoes on

White polo tucked in

Your sleeves folded a tad bit messily

Right foot, left foot.

Your white coat dangling lazily on your arm

Stethoscope locked around your neck

Yet temptation strikes me to tousle your unkempt hair

Right foot, left foot, right, left, right left

Our eyes meet, but we stand parallel

And never do we intersect

Your cocky smirk and my coy smile

Our tiny secret mornings no one knows.