we are sitting back to back on a chair
& your spine is scraping against mine
the notches are aligning
(it makes me so afraid)
i push my shoulders into your ribs
& lift my eyes to the ceiling
my dry lips opening wordlessly
my fingers stretching out
as the flimsy curtain tries to hide
the life outside the window
as if it would be ashamed
to meet my gaze
as i would be ashamed
to meet yours