What I Was Avoiding

The parking lot at 5:47

and I'm still here.

The Honda left an hour ago

and now it's back,

same space, same patient angle

against the curb.

My coworker's knuckles on the glass.

Are you okay? he asked.

I opened the door just enough

to lie. The streetlight held

in the mirror like a held breath.

I could have moved then.

Could have walked to the building,

pressed the elevator button,

done the thing that comes after okay.

Instead I watched the light

stay steady and patient,

the way it waited

like it knew I wasn't coming in.