(no subject)
Trains
What goes between and carries us
is nothing like the sun.
It’s cold and clear, like water, or a glass
upon the counter
that you stagger to, and fill, and drain
to quench your thirst at midnight.
I think of you at midnight mostly
when I am asleep,
though sometimes waking, I can feel the pull
of you, across the tracks
where trains go by incessantly
hauling their various cargo.
What goes between and carries us
is nothing like the sun.
It’s cold and clear, like water, or a glass
upon the counter
that you stagger to, and fill, and drain
to quench your thirst at midnight.
I think of you at midnight mostly
when I am asleep,
though sometimes waking, I can feel the pull
of you, across the tracks
where trains go by incessantly
hauling their various cargo.