Pinned on the sports & metro,
my thumbs smudged ink
against newsprint. I thought about
a trip we took:
on the ride, I told you I loved
how your thigh reddens when I
squeeze it lightly, and how my
own can’t; you said the other
passengers made you nervous.
We were on the way
to meet your parents. Potholes
thumped through the bus
like kicked bass pedals.
the road ahead of us as if it
were submerged sugar cubes.
Neither one of us said anything,
preferring to stare out the wind-
shield and watch buildings blur
shapes we thought we recognized.
Donald Paris has recently graduated from Queens University of Charlotte’s Creative Writing MFA program. His work has appeared in Camel Saloon, Sonic Boom, and Eunoia Review. You can follow him on Twitter @DonaldParis.