The day before Christmas I replyed...

The day before Christmas I replyed home
forward the metro. It was rush hour.
I stood in the accelerating car
from Central Station to
Muzeum squashed against
the door, my nose to its dark,
polar window. People were pushing
against me from the sides and from behind.
All at one time some calves, buttocks,
and a back got stuck to my calves,
buttocks, and back.
I turn rounded my head and saw gone out of the corner
of my vigilance that it was just more [i]or[/i] less short-haired
woman being kissed
by dint of a red-haired guy with a beard and an