How to Get Past Hello and Good Morning

I prepare justifications to be close to him
drop boxes of office supplies on the floor by his desk
so that I can spend a few more seconds lingering near his feet, picking up
tiny metal paper clips and scattered number two pencils
proclaim impromptu donut runs to the bakery
my treat for the workplace, for him.

Afterward, after work I pursue his car
almost all the way to his home, cling to his bumper
smile at him whenever I see him checking
his rear view mirror, veer off at the last moment
just prior to the turn-off to his cul-de-sac
stop the car around the corner and wait.

I fritter the night hours watching him sleep
first from the car, quietly parked across the street
then from the shelter of the bushes behind his house,
pressed against his bedroom window, my hands leaving
faint outlines of sweat on the glass
as I think of more ways to get closer and
try to find the courage to say the things I must.

Holly Day has taught writing classes at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota since 2000. Her poetry recently appeared in Tampa Review, SLAB, and Gargoyle, and her published books include Walking Twin Cities, Music Theory for Dummies, and Ugly Girl.