Kismet

The corridor.

Stretched out over countless measures of length.

Tireless bodies.

Frantically launching towards me, sweeping beyond him.

Amid the traffic of motion, at a distance, I notice his pause.

In a singular act, an ocular rendezvous.

In this, the meeting ground of kismet, 

Reactionary smiles beam extroverted sunshine.

Falling culprit to gravitational force, we move closer.

Finally, 

Confabulation.

Formal exchanges, loaded glances.

Psychological magnetism, corporeal contact. 

Arms tingling, you opt to rest your books on the protruding ledge.

Your approximations, spellbindingly enchanting.

Profound and complex, you launch into countless theories on the axes of marginalized oppression.

Cognizance divided in two,

I absorb your allocution, conjure up an intellectual response,

Synchronously pondering your bona fide allurement.

Internally screaming with excitement, 

Evading the proverbial timepiece.

Predetermined, fixed in the natural order of the macrocosm,

Our moment. 

Minutes later, or seconds sooner,

Stands the possibility of erasure.

Expunction of our brush with fate, 

Eradication of our chance tete-a-tete.

A tryst set in motion, 

A meeting of the minds.

I lean in closer, 

Eyes aflamed, ears ebullient,

Ignoring the sibilated reminder gnawing away at our time.