She has pale skin, short brown hair that kisses her shoulders, and a mousey look about her face.
He has a thick, round, all-American face, crew-cut, looks like a businessman born and bred.

She’s straddling him,
her pelvis in his crotch
her knees squeezing his sides
and he’s wrapped his arms around her
and together they make muscular motions
and cry in equally soprano whines:
“Horsey!
Horsey!
Horsey!”

They’re riding each other
like innocent cowboys
evoking perverse stares
from the grumpy travelers on cue,
and half-assed glances at the father,
eyes covered by glasses and eyelids
having drifted off to sleep in the seat next to them.