Usually,
As more seats become available on public transport,
As the journey goes on,
It’s polite to migrate from your over-crowded cluster;
To spread out.
But I quite liked sitting next to you
In silent non-eye-contact;
Almost feeling the warmth of your body
Between our tightly folded arms
And crossed legs.
You existed only in my peripheral vision,
And I only in yours.
And I hoped you wouldn’t move either.
And you didn’t.
We were careful not to lean on each other,
Or make any kind of physical
Or emotional connection.
And yet,
Every stop that you stayed
Sat beside me
Was a wedding vow.
To me, it was everything
To cherish that closeness–
Even in that bizarre way–
In transit.
Maybe you felt the same as me.
Or maybe you just liked your seat:
By the window,
Facing-forward,
Close to the door.
[28/01/19]
