the train feels like a lullaby. is there
a ghost or is that me ? music swirling
imperceptibly. i need to stop falling
in love with every stranger that has
a pen behind their ear.

the sky is out today ! just for you. or
was it me ? the clouds make soliloquy
easy. i can’t imagine being any more
tender. pressing on the obscure part
of the two-way mirror, setting fire to
a skirt.

this metal curve is a recipe for sea-
sickness. should i put you underwater ?
or wet you just enough to kiss ?