When the elevator won’t close and you are standing in it awkwardly avoiding eye contact with me

You say,
“This is awkward.”
The way most people point out that it’s raining.
It’s obvious that yes,
It is.
Your hand is on the button and
your eyes are on the ground
and I’m waiting to go up while
you’re waiting to go down and
it’s funny.
I wonder why you find this so awkward
but I don’t ask.
Maybe it’s because you wear coward so well and I, lioness,
greet you well with grinning teeth and
confidence.
In this very moment, technology and
its failure have become
my new favorite
elephant in the room,
stomping about blindly,
pushing its trunk into the space between us,
I love this discomfort.
I love the tension thick as rope.
I love that you probably wish you could tie it around your neck right now.
I stare directly into you
because I love feeding the caged animal.
I am an intentional catalyst for your internal,
“Oh fuck.”
Is this what happens
when there is too much weakness
on one side for closure?
When the scales shift to the right
And the left falls completely?
Does it make you uneasy
that I still exist after you stopped talking to me?
bless this malfunctioning, how
I am grateful for the comedy
for these few minutes of entertainment
and your desperation hanging from your pockets,
I could see it clearly,
how awkward.