Late-Night Window

Drive-thru reveal,
above the waist
one locks direct
the other eye drifts

Coffee steams
from her hand to mine
"Long day?" I ask
"Almost over," she responds, "ten minutes left."

No vehicle behind me,
so I linger a bit longer,
"Any plans? I could wait."

She stammers to respond,
a light rose invading her skin
"That's not necessary," she politely declines.

She has served me many times
and I am compelled to serve her,
"You've been on those feet all day, just a ride."

I can sense she is not accustomed to such bold gestures,
the suggestion swaying like an empty swing,
the indecision captured,
biting her lower lip.

She spooks herself a little
as a quiet "okay" slips from her mouth,
the same mouth that will warm me
after I pull over to confess
my aching need to fuck her.

But my read is off-kilter
despite her bashful persona,
the addiction of the closing shift
and those final minutes
has led her to the passenger seat
a few times before

and as I am coated,
warm breath and saliva,
growing beneath her experience
and losing my ability to orchestrate the situation

she is on me
straddling me
still in the driver's seat
moving herself just like before
her focus fixed
and her wandering eye
stable.