Wednesday, April 23, 2014

For railroads without railway stations (SEVEN)

As the train whistles past the
silent silvery
moonlit fields

I

feel the distance
between me and the world
oscillate like infinite pendulums
in action.


The sky is not pitch dark- it should
be. They have stopped
crying.

"Tears are impractical waters."

The officers took her in a while
ago- the girl who fell from the upper
berth and kept on sleeping,
perhaps dreaming too?



Here in railroads without railway stations
Everybody's awake for the end
of the road, but tonight

I

just want to sleep like her.

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