Desire #1 – The Underground
Posted on September 11, 2008
The doors of the F train beckon, and they approach with a slow tango that sweeps them into the middle of my car; two people in a world entirely of their own making. Distance is painful, whether in inches or centimeters; she stands unchained, but shows no interest in escaping the fervid prison of his embrace. For he is her White Tower, with a will to make even mules seem cooperative. Long after the rock gives way, and the River invades, and the tunnels collapse, he will remain; the sweep of his confident, gentle fingers being all she needs to hope.
Briefly, I become the trespasser, my eyes traveling up and down the length of the car. Up and down the length of her flower-print linen dress. The unexpected visit is far from welcome; he stands that much taller as she averts her eyes, retreating further into her Tower’s faithful corridors.
I look away. All that’s left of the encounter is the newfound warmth in my cheeks.
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What a nice poetic way to describe two strangers making out on a train and the emotion you felt about it. I’m loving your posts, Nigel!