Revision. It's better now. I think.

[disgruntledmuse]

It will happen in a crosswalk. You will blow
from my hand into traffic -- suddenly, you will
be going the other way. It will happen

on the last train. You will fall
from sleepy, forgetful fists and
get stuck to the bottom of someone else's

shoe. You will be the letter sealed and stamped
and delivered to the wrong doorstep. One day
you will be the alarm I forgot to set, the bell

I meant to ring.