Six o'clock, standing in the mall
walking endlessly through the hall
At first I didn't see you
then you stumbled into me
Six seconds of your warm hand, gripping mine
Six minutes before my train left
but I kept thinking of you
the six seconds of your warmth lingering on my skin
and the prickling cold afterwards
but who were you?
Six minutes to decide
if the train was worth it
Six minutes of lost
but you did not come, yet I waited and hoped
but they were six hours of nothing
perhaps, I thought, endlessly,
you had not remembered our sixty second encounter
Six days of daydreaming
of your smile, so genuine
your seablue eyes meeting mine again
every sixteen minutes
Six weeks of forgetting
that little incident
but in the end
I needed six-and-a-half week to see,
that I should have stopped you and talked more
of a dream that could have been