Twas in the next carriage I saw him that night,
On the first row in, third seat from the right.
I was far at the back, but he noticed me there,
As he glanced every second, shy by my stare.
The train rumbled by, past stop after stop,
My lover he watched, as we came to a halt.
Ad he watched my reflection, as my reflection watched him,
And his eyes wandered ’round, as though only to skim.
As quick as he glanced, embarrassed he turned,
Like on a fiery flame, his fingers had burned.
I watched his reflection, his reflection watched me,
Both full of desire, neither wanting to be.
From my reflection, his gaze fell to his ‘sack,
As he pulled it ‘cross his shoulder, to fall on his back.
Then he rose and wandered to the door,
And stood, so nervously, staring at the floor.
The train ground to a halt, and let out a sigh,
My unknown lover, left without goodbye.
I watched as he walked, and knew it was gone,
My short, reflection romance, as quick as it have come.