7:15
7:14AM.
the stale air sits heavy
under fluorescent lights
we scroll through glass screens
beneath tired, glazed eyes.
a shadow stumbles, out of sight -
nobody notices the yellow line.
darkness dances on iron rails,
we grip the cardboard sleeves
of our jet-black roasts,
bleeding heat into palms
that haven't been held all week.
silhouettes flee and the brakes shriek,
capsized by a heavy beast.
tomorrow the stained tiles
will be scrubbed completely clean,
and the train will arrive again
at 7:15.