Short term public transportation love

Of all days you choose this one to walk into my vision 
with your chiseled hair and forbidden beard. Of course, 
you carry yourself with the knowledge of your 
sculpted shoulders under only a thin pullover — you’re too manly for the cold to bother you, I get it.

Razorsharp eyes pierce every person in your vicinity, declare yourself the ruler of every female in this enclosed space that fills with 
the way your hair has to carry the scent of cedar wood and the ocean.
I’m only pretending I’m not impressed by
your cheekbones, 
sharp as your mind might be — 
but your jawline is stronger than my desire to get to know you.

Stronger even than the hands (hands only a man could handle)
that stroke over your chin and through your hair and — 
by all means, continue looking up at the map
and show the world the line of your neck 
- what a tease you must feel like, but I don’t care. I only -

I only want to thank our maker for
the way your laugh starts in your throat and dimples your cheeks slightly, only a little bit.

Good god, Mister. Tame it down.
I’m lucky to exist in this moment on the train and know
your voice can caramelise me completely — 
it’s already stuck in my ears like honey or molten gold laced with pine cones (that’s the manliest thing I can think of, can you imagine, I’m, I am, it is me who is void of words and pictures to grasp your being, isn’t it a travesty and shouldn’t you give them back? 
What else do you want to own) — are you mad?

In this moment I let fresh air slap me into clarity as I exit the train at my usual stop. The image of you lingers for a little while
but when I sit down in my chair to read my book in the evening,
I have fallen out of love with you again
and your jawline that seemed to go on for days, stops after mere minutes.

Like what you read? Give Eva-Sophie Seyfried a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.