I measure my time to you in the lengths between tube stops. With each open of the doors, a cool metallic air rushes in blowing my bangs from my sweaty forehead. Similar to how you brush my shower-soaked hair from my eyes in order to kiss the space between my brows. I smile as people enter and exit the tube because I know they are going where they need to be, maybe where they want to be. To meet a woman they crave like I do you, or maybe they aren’t as lucky as I am– to even come close to that sensation.