Mystery Woman

There she was, standing about five inches away from me. I can almost feel her, but I don't. I can almost love her, but I can't. I smell her silky smooth hair as it caresses my smell senses. I hear her whisper the song on her i-Pod that she is listening to. I notice her hair slowly move down her back as she unwraps her pony tail. I get an eager smile on my face thinking about running my fingers through her hair. I thought about it a lot if I should speak with her, but always held back. I think today is the day I finally have a conversation with this beautiful mysterious woman. She is not like other women, something about her makes her different. She enjoys life and all its qualities. She loves to ride this subway all through NYC in the morning and night commute, for she works in the city like myself. I see her every morning, I sense her presence every night. We take the same part of the train every day and night. Does she notice me like I notice her? Or is it a coincidence? Could be a coincidence, yes it has to be, but a coincidence for two months straight, sounds a little odd, no? Makes me wonder if she feels the same. Does she notice I'm only a couple of inches away from her all the time she rides the subway? Can she feel my breath on her shoulder in the crowded cart? Can she love me? Does she notice my expression when I take a sniff at her hair? Does she see my eyes attached to her lips as she lip sings? Does she realize how close of attention I pay to the unwrapping of her hair as it slowly works its way down her back? I will not speak with her today for I have many questions to be answered. As those questions begin to be answered, more questions will come up, leading to a never ending chain of procrastinating...