Subway intimacies are wonderful little amusements when you are living a life that is amplified. The little accidental meetings of eyes or occidental faux pas. Reading each others newspapers or coming face to face with ample cleavage. The bump and grind of start and stop trains and the forced sardine meetings of strangers. Innocent intimacies must go unacknowledged by most but not to me.

I am helpless to record the ceremonial reactions of the morning after couple in the little two seat bench at the end of the car. She is slightly embarrassed by her somewhat messy hair. He is both proud of himself and sort of straining to get away. Still his hand finds her knee and her eyes close briefly.

The voyeur doesn’t have to stand in the closet or peek through the curtains. Dodging eyes and stolen kisses can be as breathtaking as watching wicked acts.