Train Ride

She's seen in glancing moonlight through trees; in flashing tunnel lights through train windows, you catch a glance of her jawline in light blue light, her lips, flush in purple, pouting, disappear. She looks straight; her eyes are wisdom. You want to know what she thinks, looking forward, blinking slow, breathing, her nostrils flare with her breath, hands in her lap, knees together, feet together, under her seat; you want to know what she's thinking, but truly, you're afraid to know.