Friday Night Dharma

She came onto the train
Face wet
Mascara running
Looking like she'd been in a wreck
Eyes flickering around as if
Looking for escape
She walked with strength
Or panic
Or fury
Or numbness
Her habitual attentiveness gone

He followed
Attentive for once
Panicked
Shamed
Resentful
If he didn't want her public pain
He shouldn't have ambushed her
Why did he think it would go well
In public?

She strode through the car
Ignoring and aware
And slid into a seat for two
And turned her face to the window
And as he sat in the seat next to her
She leaned
Horrified at the possibility of touch

And they sat, silent
Ignoring each other
Aware of nothing else.
And in the dark of the tunnel
She tried to fix her eyes
In the mirror of the window
But couldn't bring herself to function
Once her eyes glanced off
Of his reflection
But only once

At their stop
He leapt up
Startled and afraid.
She strode away
Never looking back.
Never looking back
And he followed, her satellite

She was already making her own way
A pair had become two

I watched, and wished I was going their way
Fascinated
And sad
And sad
I yearned to warm myself
Against the fire of her strength
I turned instead
And went to sit
And to hear about the dharma