Sharon Olds - On The Subway lyrics

The boy and I face each other. His feet are huge, in black sneakers laced with white in a complex pattern like a set of intentional scars. We are stuck on opposite sides of the car, a couple of molecules stuck in a rod of light rapidly moving through darkness. He has the casual cold look of a mugger, alert under hooded lids. He is wearing red, like the inside of the body exposed. I am wearing dark fur, the whole skin of an animal taken and used. I look at his raw face, he looks at my fur coat, and I don't know if I am in his power — he could take my coat so easily, my briefcase, my life — or if he is in my power, the way I am living off his life, eating the steak he does not eat, as if I am taking the food from his mouth. And he is black and I am white, and without meaning or trying to I must profit from his darkness, the way he absorbs the murderous beams of the nation's head, as black cotton absorbs the heat of the sun and holds it. There is no way to know how easy this white skin makes my life, this life he could take so easily and break across his knee like a stick the way his own back is being broken, the rod of his soul that at birth was dark and fluid, rich as the head of a seedling ready to thrust up into any available light.