Speaking East Coast

As if hypnotized by the illicit pleasure

of her barely touching hand on his cheek

and her eyes pressed to his mouth and her lips

fixed in paradise, the taxi driver, peering in his

rear-view and long arrived at the hotel with its revolving

doors they’ll not use, for a doorman will open with

great somberness so they can disappear, anxious

to ascend and commence their marathon to purity,

gazes back to his farebox, its bright numbers

now thundering louder than ever before.