The Train Back

How strange
To see him like this, not as a significant other
Or as someone she'd hurt, but simply as another,
Someone whose actions were familiar

But distant. She knew that hair, but she left it
Alone. She knew those fingers, but she didn't latch
His pinkies to hers.

She held the box firmly in her arms
And carried it with her as they started the trek
Down the corridor, back to their respective

Compartments, with their respective
People, in their respective, separate worlds.