The Nature of a Commuter

I find myself tangled among the vines of a creeping guitar,
Waiting on the platform, behind the yellow lines.
The hammer of the bass strikes me through the cords to my head –
My soul reverberating –
In anticipation for the train’s approach.
The defiance of a black panther pounces on me, roaring vocals,
And I stumble through
The doors, clinging to a pole, scanning my perimeter.
No seats left empty.
I press pause on the music, allowing myself to be swept along another track.

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