Train station

I was close to him but far from home

Now here I am, cheek wet from sloppy goodbye gestures

waiting for the sun to set

aren’t we always waiting for the sun to set?

 

Remembering him is like watching the train leave:

it blows my hair as it goes by,

and it leaves so suddenly it’s like it was never there at all

but i’m a little dizzy and

is the platform really standing still?

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