The brimming subway carriage jerks into motion.
Our taut, seated bodies lurch.
The smooth skin of our arms press.
Our eyes flick over to each other.
Then we look away, as the train roars.
Next stop.
Not my stop. Not your stop.
I adjust my skirt. You adjust yours.
Hourglass sand drains quickly.
You look at me. I take your hand. You swallow.
Then you smile, brushing the hair from your face.
Next stop.
Moisture between our palms.
Shivers consuming our muscles.
More people jostle aboard. Sand disappearing.
Eyes around us. Ears around us.
Venus toying with us.
Next stop.
Your head on my shoulder.
The future now smolders.
Your stop is next.
Everyone pretends not to watch.
But they’re watching.
Your stop.
Heat in my cheeks.
Heat in your cheeks.
Eyes close.
Lips touch.
And you go.
