in passing
So I've thought every time
just who are you --
chance meetings,
quick glimpses,
that faint recognition that
passes your face when
you see me,
and it's not more than that.
Your silence becomes you
it fits your face,
sharp chiseled lines 
that won't give your secrets away;
severed restraints
of a tactile indifference
your glance scathes 
a path through the room.
I should be like you -- 
tensely-contained,
the slim piercing foil
that's honed to an edge
of sharp practice,
and passing, our eyes seize
our wordless encounter 
of thrust and parry...
Jon Bohrn (1999) 

 

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in passing