I tried to explain, but I couldn’t.

You looked at me.
A bus, at the crowded station. The words,
who until that point had been waiting patiently in line, were
too close to the edge. Sucked into the air stream and
crushed unceremoniously beneath the grinding, metallic
wheels.
Damn.
I tried to explain, but I couldn’t.
You spoke to me.
I grasped at your words, snatching them from the balmy air,
desperately trying to take them and assemble them for my
own, personal use. But in the confusion they slipped
through my fingers. Gone.
Shit.
I tried to explain, but I couldn’t.
You touched my hand.
Hazy, shimmering shoals of adjectives swam into my
consciousness. Excitedly, I caught one and held it close. At
last! But it wriggled free and shot off into the abyss.
Fuck.
I tried to explain, but I couldn’t.
You turned away.
Clarity came hurtling out of the darkness, crashing into my
vocabulary with force of a Pacific tsunami. There were the
words I’d been longing for, ready now, poised for action.
I love you!
Too late.
I did try to explain, but I couldn’t.

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