The elevator doors close and instantly we are in each other's arms.
Our tacit agreement; elevators are for kissing.
That they actually take us where we want to go as well is quite incidental.
Only empty elevators are suitable.
We flirt along edges of public impropriety.
The excitement of never knowing whether someone will be there when the doors open.
Is it our floor? Did they push the button?
The flustered moment when we quickly let go of each other, just before the doors open and someone walks in.
We stand there smiling.
Can they see our eyes shine?
Can they see our wet lips and flushed cheeks?
We know...what elevators are for.
©Ruby Ryder
(Click on the caption of the photo for a hot video...)
