the elevator

two strangers sit
with their backs against the wall
in opposite corners
of the small dark space.

maybe ten minutes have passed.
it is so black they can see nothing.
he breaks the silence;
his voice immediately comforts her.

and so it begins.

they exchange names.
he tells her about himself
and she herself.
they find common ground and
pursue those subjects,

basic things.
like where they grew up,
what brought them to this building today,
hobbies and sports and jobs and such.

she shivers
from a draft.
he hears and
asks if she’d like to come
sit closer to him.

she puts a hand out in front of her
and crawls across the floor
feeling her way
towards a faceless voice.

she bumps into his leg
but finds the wall
and sits beside him.

the sharing resumes.
it becomes more personal.
he is married. unhappily in many ways.
as is she.
she has grown children.
as does he.

they both live with a void,
dreaming of another.

she wonders why she can’t remember
what he looks like.
he attempts to picture her
before the lights went off.

he asks her to describe herself.
as she’s telling him about her features
she feels his foot rest against her ankle.
she doesn’t move away.

he inhales her perfume and
Their thighs touch.
he doesn’t move away.

their elbows are touching.

he asks if she is still cold
and she is.
he lifts his arm and
she moves closer to him, into place.
he rests his arm across her shoulders.

they talk about the hopes they had
when they were young
and all the things they’d still like to do
and about how long they may
be together in the dark.

he says he’d gladly go with her
on drives through the country
to photograph old barns,
she says she would be a good student
if he’d teach her about steam engines and railroads.

maybe they’d take a train ride someplace together.

they are acutely aware
of each other's presence,
the body heat and breathing,
and the places where their bodies are in contact.

she feels his fingers on her shoulder
through the fabric of her dress.
he feels the warmth where their legs meet
she wants to put her head on his chest
he is tempted to move the fingers he is holding still.

she asks if she may feel him.
he reaches for her hand and
presses her palm against his cheek.
her fingers travel across his face as
she turns slightly towards him.

he moves to touch her.
the back of his hand brushes her cheek
and softly traces her jawline
to just behind her ear.

they are like two blind people
discovering and recording one another.

her fingers move along his cheek
and forehead;
her thumb glides softly across his eyelids.

he moves a fingertip lightly
back and forth across her lips.
she parts them - automatically.

he pries her bottom lip down,
open enough
that he can slide his finger across the
softness just inside.

he lifts her hair
and moves a hand underneath
grasping the back of her neck,
pulling her to him.
she lifts her head and finds his lips
with hers.

they kiss for a long time,
still exploring each other’s faces
and now necks and arms and chests.

even in the darkness
they both have their eyes closed.

there is a jolt and
the lights flash on for a moment,
illuminating and almost blinding them.

they catch a glimpse of each other
before it’s black again.
but they’ve moved past needing to see.

the elevator starts to shake
and move
and the lights turn on for good.

he lets go of her
to stand,
putting out his hand
to pull her to her feet.

the bell dings quietly
as they watch the numbers change,
one by one,
until the doors open.

as they step through
she drops his hand
and turns to say goodbye.

he smiles
and picks it right back up.
she smiles.
and they walk away together
hand in hand.