Catullus Rides the Loop

Out of the sky like a bolt of blue!
How rugged his chest, how fine his calves!
How thick and glossy the hair that curls from his collar.
How clear those eyes, like pools of sweet water.
How warm and familiar his hands, rough calloused and sure.
How thrilling his laugh!
How my throat works to follow it!
We ride together upon the same train, alert conspirators in the early morning.
I could draw his profile a thousand times upon the pane.
His beaky nose, his smiling lips, his high and noble forehead.
To look upon them is to caress them with your eyes.
What bliss are these early trains!
What comraderie there is when every face is pulled down with sleep.
What silent kinship we share!
We sing to each other across the nodding heads.
We sing to each other in the reflection of the windows.
Songs of the morning!
How clear our voices soar above the pitch of hearing!
We have rubbed shoulders a thousand times, and again a thousand.
The shoulders of my jacket have grown shiny as satin where we have passed.
When the train stops, the day is full.
He goes left, I go right.