Standing
As best we can
As the train shifts speed - we brace
Stiffening quickly against the jostles
Brushing softly, arms against bags
Your shoes are
Almost deceptively casual
Oblong, large -
Your pant-cuffs -
Still sharply creased in the early evening
My shoe is tight and pointy
My instep curves towards your toes
Your knees could
Feel the iron
Then appear fresh again
My skirt’s twisted,
Twists again on unsteady tracks
Curled hands, discordant bands
An errant shirt bit creeping out -
Scratched, dark leather belt
With a furtive, sloe-eyed buckle
My elbow – trained on yours, our
Coats brush again on the shuddering train
It’s only cotton and nylon it
Lasted an instant it’s
A crowded train we’re
Trying to stay upright we’re
Worn down at the end of the day
Your shirt-collar has a
Tiny thread escaping from the
Too-tight button - you’ve
Never worn
That shirt
Before
Your eyes I think are
On my hair which
Falls around my chin and
We lurch again - too hard, and my
Foot meets yours I look up
To apologize but my
Mouth is empty and your delicate right hand comes
To my face, strokes my chin, sweeps my locks
Your skin is softer than mine – I think - I
I can not smile, I can not laugh, your
Fingers - wide, gentle nails
Play across my chin, pausing,
Near the corner of my mouth
The train stops.
Our stomachs drop
As the doors part
These pieces of
Our hands touch – the palms
Stay out it’s only knuckles brushing for a moment knuckles
Can not hold, only whisper
“See you tomorrow” I say, wanting to heave or cry
You reply a slow, deafening nod
Which plays in my head until morning.