We make eye contact. My loins erupted with a bloodflow like a bursted dam stopping up the Mississippi River. You turn away and keep walking. I slowly unbutton my onesie, revealing my naked, greased, potent, and unbathed body underneath. I slowly unfurl my shlong and press it up against the window. The cold glass is a rush up my waist like a dip into the Amazon River on a hot day. You turn to look at me again. You behold me in all of my God given glory. The disgust in your face only enamored me more. I was more erect than 10,000 Colossus cries on a cool spring night. Please. Let us finish our journey. We will not go gentle into that good night. We will fornicate, fornicate against the dying of the light.