Crust

The empty train gave us reprieve from wind and city,
making us whole again.
The overpriced drinks made sense of the sounds,
meeting our minds.
Eating cake on the abandoned car, we were alone
when I confessed
Defeat to losing myself in a concert hall bathroom
with no locks.
The wind wanted in but the windows held strong,
the glass kept us safe
just one of the manmade
nets that caught me.

Invention

Your arm moves across the bench, your fingers slip through my own a tapestry of icy skin, meeting pelagic eyes. Yours, the deep blue of an Atlantic reflect my Mediterranean splash.

A still prayer escapes your lips, head bowed. It flies through the air with precision, my ears receptive to your elder tongue. Minerva, sitting on this shoreline, musical poetry pulsing through thought. I can barely see, lean closer, lost in my thoughts, a moment. So many. My own unknown potential finally found in the high tides of your eyes.