Night tube, buzzing with home-bound revellers.
Raucous exuberance; too-loud talk; scents of sweat, stale alcohol. 
Young woman opposite,
relaxed, inebriated,
sexily braless in strappy low-cut top.
Tube brakes sharply: she drops her water bottle.
We both reach for it, almost bump heads;
her strap slips
and one bare tit flops out.
Time flash-freezes:
pale boob just inches from my face;
delicate blue veins on smooth skin;
dimples round pink nipple.
Pissed, she’s unaware, ‘til I wink,
indicate with eyes her flopping tit.
She gasps, fumbles it back, blushes pink, ashamed.
But I start laughing,
then so does she.