To The Lady on the Train,
In deep sleep my dreams run wild and I cannot
shape my thoughts and in my waking hours I am pressed by gravity and cannot
lift to hold you in my mind for long. No matter how hard I try to hold your
image, you fade from me like water in cupped hands.
But there is a very small
place between sleep and awake, between dreams and truth, where I can be
completely happy. It is only here where I shed my awkwardness; where I can
build worlds as they might be; where I am no longer bound to who I am. It is in
this thin in-between where I can see your face and I can hear your voice. It is
here where I can feel your gaze on me like standing in bight warm sunlight. It
is here where your dark eyes shine and a wry smile holds a secret.
It is here
where I see you. Here, you are known and loved.
The Man in the Station
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