Dragging dirty rubber across the hot cement, only to be presented by that which aims to prevent – another obstacle in our way, distance represented by a passing train. We simmered in the sunlight, sincerity spreading from our faces, with blood broadening to our finger tips, among other places. Pressed my hips against yours, though I'm not sure what I expected, then the mass began to move in a different direction. You bared your teeth, and we contemplated going over, maybe underneath. I laughed and asked, “Did you feel the earthquake that the train made?” Brushed that porcelain against my face – your succession, something that truly makes me shake. I reminisce the reverberations, running them regularly through my reason, though it's not March and we've come to a different season, I slip from my tongue that innocent secret: if something bad isn't coming, something good is always leaving. I felt my uncertainty cling to the train that day, and I bared my teeth as I watched it ride away.