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The Filthy Rich Woman Flirting In The Escalator
she met him
at the escalator
they did not talk
but their eyes
were laughing
taunting
for more of this
mutual understanding
there is no
need for elaboration
for what both
people know
there was a certain
intimacy in their
silence
not unusual for this
filth
this way of loving
only in the mind
with a stranger
she looked down
not at the floor
somewhere between
the ceiling and
his shoes
between his legs
i supposed
there is a short
lapse
and they cannot
forget it
that crisp crunch
a steady thump
sweet stud
a thud.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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