Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Jan Oskar Hansen

The Lovers.

The express train, going east, slowly drove passed
disused factories made into trendy flats and stopped
our carriage was just opposite someone’s bedroom
window and in the half light a couple was making
love, both so rudely white their nudeness appeared
as sinful, She, peering over his shoulder, saw us first,
told her lover, who quickly covered their phototropic
bodies in a duvet, pretended to sleep. We, the public,
tried not to look into a room where a couple had lost
all privacy, but the train was stuck and eyes strayed,
the tableaux were too gripping to miss. Finally, our
actor got out of his bed walked to the window and as
he lifted his arms to pull the curtains shut, he was so
superbly heroic that we spontaneously applauded.

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