while riding the seven o’clock train home,
two stops before mine,
I see her standing outside -
the woman with sad eyes.
she stands there.
Headphones tucked in,
ignoring all the vacant benches,
fidgeting nonstop with her phone.
she looks up for a minute
to smile at me.
Every day, I smile back.
She doesn’t know my name;
it’s the eyes she recognises.
a little after seven,
we reveal ourselves to one another
without the fear of evoking any pity.
Separated by steel and glass,
we share a few moments of solidarity.