Last night, after the mid shift, I tuck sweaty cardboard takeaway under my arm and fare hop the red line at Alewife

Wearing my barista shirt because my boy likes a man in uniform

Stumble on the platform in Lechmere and hope it's quiet tonight

Come in late and dizzy, he's elbow deep in sweet cream and startling at the bell on the door

We let the customer service voice drop and kiss

I tell them about my day making coffee,

Being on bar for six hours straight

The mobile orders and manager group chats

Breaking off dripping mouthfuls of a sandwich that doesn't taste like anything

Congealing pasta dinners for two on the prep table promising a lukewarm return

He doesn't have time to eat

The rush comes late and I jump on register at a place I don't work

Joke that they can tip me out later

I'm just moonlighting tonight, lover

We brush hands scooping ice cream

Men and women come in together, drawn out date nights neither has the heart to end

So we lock up ten minutes early and make out in the walk in,

Blind corners, our bodies melting ice

We, what goes on after close, dish pit oasis

My hands swim in AJAX and verbena,

here

Work and pleasure are the same name

He turns the thrash metal down to listen to me sing in the doorway, the folk music from my speaker,

Phone cradled in the hand washing sink

They rattle the bearings for the ice cream machine like knucklebones,

And we don't need a home

Or kitchen

Or bed

We are in love with wet pyrex and Tupperware

Stay late and then an hour past that, watch the square spiral into red lights

We go an extra stop on the train just to hold on to each other,

And I kiss the sugar off his face in the break of our breath

we have only hours to go around, but it's hours enough