full moon in Aquarius
Stand Clear of the Closing Doors
Sunday, November 25, 2012: 12:43 am
He reached back and grabbed my hand instinctually, then began to weave in and out of the groups littering the platform.
Suddenly, I was aware of my fingerless gloves, and the icicles sprouting from their openings, and the long meandering walk we took from St Marks Place.
We carried clouds of cheap beer and mango-scented hookah through the station until we reached the perfect place: quiet and convenient for the transfer to the 7 train in Queens.
I leaned against one of the metal pillars, a name tag for the station, stretching out my arms and keeping our hands clasped without bringing him along
then I let go and they swung like two pendulums.
His hazel eyes, shaggy brown hair, and goofy smile loomed over me. Drawn in by the magnetic force of my gaze, his hands found the small of my back.
I whispered something silly in his ear and plopped a sloppy kiss on his cheek, still leaning against the beam my hair grazed the words, ‘Union sq.’
The final moment, before I learned to wonder what would last.
My lids became too heavy as the freckles dotting his nose hovered an inch or so away and I heard the N train rush in.
Wednesday, March 15, 2017: 8:37 pm
I walked onto the train first, spotted two seats through the crowd and sat before looking up to make sure he was behind me. In the mix, I spotted a styled helmet of thick black hair. Satisfied by his presence, I crossed my legs and allowed my mind to drift as he sat down and placed his hand, heavy, above my knee. Absentmindedly, I put mine on top of it. As the train jerked away from Nassau Ave, my shoulder bumped into his. I apologized.
He draped his leather jacket over my legs to do what the thin layer of nylon couldn’t.
He was always too warm. I was always too cold.
In that way, it did work
until my body temperature regulated
all but the spot on my leg sitting beneath his hand
and my hand.
It was stiff and suffocating, and the heat kept building under his palm—his sweaty palm, pressing into the tights, their plastic weave sticking, digging into the fleshy inside of my thigh. The itch began to climb up my spine,
then he broke my concentration with a loud laugh and shoved his phone in front of my face to share a meme. I laughed too.
He looked happy, so I shifted slightly. After a minute or two it felt better, mostly.
My jacket’s hidden inside pocket, a military surplus special feature, began to vibrate. I pulled my phone out with my free hand. My heart was racing before I saw her name pop up on my lock screen. I returned the phone to my pocket. I stroked his scraggly beard, kissed him on the cheek, and moved his hand to scratch the skin hiding under it.
He looked up from his phone and smiled at me.
Saturday, June 28, 2014: 3:11 am
Still talking, rambling actually, about either poetry, food deserts or intersectional feminism, I looked across the empty train car.
My eyes landed below the letter ‘F’ encircled in orange, and onto the window transformed underground into a mirror.
It showed me my lips, still moving, behind smudged red lipstick, my dilated pupils hiding under raccoon eyes, and my bare shoulders, glistening, with a curtain of his curls covering my left side as he rested his head and closed his eyes.
It showed him mumble something in agreement.
My fingers danced along his forearm, hairy, sweaty, and firm—lost in the screen telling the story of us,
I watched them move, admiring their grace, and trying to make out the indent of my nails on his skin.
Then I saw his hand come for mine,
gently coaxing with soft strokes until my restless energy jittered right out of my body, dispersing into the air around us.
Captive in his grip, my fingers gently traced the scar on the side of his hand, below his thumb.
His hair tickled my face as I laid my head on his.
He slowly lifted his sleepy eyes until they met mine in the inky reflection across the way;
Tuesday, October 8, 2019: 10:52 pm
I looked over at him as the train began to glide into the next station. I knew where we were but I was still surprised when he jolted suddenly, gathered himself, and rose from the seat next to me, leaving the right side of my body freezing for an instant.
I let out a soft, “see ya,” but there was only a couple at the far end of the car and a small group of young women adjacent to me, so my words hit with an unexpected force.
His mouth smiled as his eyes apologized, and he put his hand on the side of my face.
It was a little rough and exactly the same temperature as the train car. Mine moved instinctually to cover his then slid down with recognition, slowing at the scar below his thumb,
the rush of melanin like a speed bump on my hand’s journey back to my lap.
With that denim jacket draped over his arm, a dark-wash tail trailed behind him as he crept through the sliding doors.
I watched the space he disappeared into.
The conductor pulled me back into reality. I was on a Manhattan-bound A train. The next stop is Lafayette Ave.
I pulled my headphones out of my bag.
He framed himself perfectly in the window and drew a heart with his fingers,
as they connected, the train pulled away.
Each time he left, I cried a little less.
Thursday, December 27, 2018: 11:24 am
Dragging the unwelcome gust of cold air through the tunnel, the train left the station.
I sat on the edge of the wide wooden seat and she sat on the edge of the one next to me.
Her hand peeked out of a sweatshirt layered beneath a wool coat, to cross the armrest between us and join me in the lap of my bubble jacket.
It was cold like mine, but her eyes were warm and under her gaze, I began to defrost.
She played with my fingers as I played with the hem of my skirt and looked at her.
Then I picked up my legs, covered in thick, fleece-lined tights, poured them over hers and wrapped my body around her like a blanket. Holding her in place
in this tiny home that I made, for just us, tucked under Bedford Ave.
Noticing as the trains passed, we chose to ride out the blustery morning right there.
Just as it got too quiet to stay still, another train would come
and the movement made space for one more moment
so we agreed
and only when we ran out of moments, could we part ways above ground.