Star-Crossed Crosswalk

Walking my bike across Burrard at the Davie crosswalk, I caught your eye and we kept smiling from opposite sides of the street. You are too good to let go, so I rode my bike back around to catch you, but you had disappeared—maybe into an apartment building. You're handsome, mister, and I'd like to meet. You: dark, nice black boots, great smile. Me: bicycle helmet (stylin'), beard.