Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Data Transfers

Exhausted.
Feet blistered from a day of extensive walking
I lay my heavy head against the cold glass
and drown out the drones of conversations around me
Somewhere around Dover
she lay her head on my shoulder
Could I have been dreaming?
No way to be sure 
The brain does peculiar things when it lacks what it needs
I lean into the window 
in efforts to create a comfort zone for her
(or the apparition of her)
My neck
It hurts
From hours of being still
She shifts...closer
And she is warm
And this song is a cover
And this gum is stale
A few more miles to Baltimore

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