Amtrak Depot, Penn Station, New York.

[dead man]

this brought me back to the rail lines I took overseas, and every Metra and CTA train rides i've ever taken. It's a bit creepy on the surface, sure. but the impression a beautiful stranger can have on a man is something profound and something that we rarely discuss openly.

love at first neck twist.

awesome.

you describe the motions, the atmosphere, the feelings associated with a crowded transit almost perfectly.

discussing the weather but stuck inside.

i could almost see her in front of me. every woman on her way to work in the morning. coffee steam and sun times. red peacoats and tall, leather boots. thats winter in the city. i love it. only someone who takes a daily, public commute can really appreciate the scene you set up here i think.

it was succinct and honest and well rendered.

you mentioned on a recent verse of mine that i am veering a bit away from the rigid rhyme-centric approach and this is why: reading it in other's verses has begun to bother me a bit. it usually feels at least a bit contrived for me, and unfortunately sections of this were no different.

"blond head" was a sort of whack to me. anything else could have worked better and made that more organic, rather than something you just wanted to rhyme.

i dunno. besides that single moment and a few other tiny glitches, i absolutely loved this little vignette of the lonely commuter. and perhaps not even that, just absent-minded. searching and wandering. overthinking his maybe-Amanda.

thank you.