if we’ve left pieces of ourselves boarding the train to
places that never stuck
how long until we forget how it felt
to hold that ticket blood deep im thinking beyond
everything the
windows kept out (nothing)
all i
so willingly let in
(all ways) and how each wheel rolling
over my spine said this is
the depth of you said
your love has loved loves in lifetimes of ancient religious prophecies
and the first two layers of boiling earth said
a track will keep you counting but that’s what the windows are for
why your lungs open the way they do why you know
exactly how deflated a loving can
love all (the) ways and how a station just weights
to hold your space
between platforms of been and
yet to fall
between tickets and
pieces of ourselves
