The poem begins with a small, ordinary image: tears left on a tiled floor, soon trampled by people rushing past who don't know or care whose they are. The speaker insists the tears aren't theirs, but that denial feels uncertain, and the poem soon turns toward something more personal. When night falls and the building goes quiet, a broken figure stumbles in, searching for the speaker. It turns out to be the speaker's "distant other," a part of themselves, or perhaps a separate self, left behind through years of loneliness.
The speaker feels a mix of pride, longing and regret. They remember the figure's sweetness and wish they had watched it grow, yet now they must see it hurt and fragile. The poem suggests they have to stay apart for "a couple more years at least," though the reason isn't explained. The mood is sad and hushed, moving from the noise of rush hour to a lonely quiet, and ending on a quiet, persistent wish to be reunited.