Geraldine rides the bus to work.
She sways side to side with the
motion of the bus, sitting in the
compact human zoo, faces, limbs,

bodies, eyes, mouths. The sky
outside is an early morning icy blue.
A man opposite stares, his eyes
moving over her, his hands in his

lap, fingers playing with each other.
His eyes settle on her legs, drink
them in. She feels as if he were
******* her, taking each item of

clothing off one by one. His eyes
are dark, deep set. She stares back
at him, takes in his lips, parted, thick
and saliva sits there. Her thoughts

move to Holly and the night before,
the game they played, the role plays,
the pre-*** drama. The man shifts
in his seat, wrinkles his nose, moves

his eyes to her *******. She looks away,
senses his eyes fondling her ****, his
imaginary fingers groping. Holly would
have said something to the creep opposite,

would have shown him up, but she
doesn’t have that way with her, she sits
it out, pushing thoughts of him away,
focuses on Holly’s tongue licking the

inside of her thighs, sensation electrifying.
The man looks away, no doubt to *******
in his dark mind with his imaginary fingers.
Geraldine lets the thoughts of Holly and

her deeds linger, ***** in the hotness,
the scents, the sighs, the smells. She stares
at the man. He looks at his hands, his fingernails.
There is dirt beneath the nails, black as soot

as if he’d rooted in dark soil. She looks away;
Holly has set her (with her deeds) to ****** boil.