Stilled times and speeding trains.

Rushing backwards to you,
hundreds of miles of hours.
Through the greyed glass
all the clouds are layered
and distinct,
hiding the sky.

The people in their
oddly shaped houses,
their oddly shaped faces
looking not seeing.

This time is so tasteless
and bland, all those neutral
colours and corners.
Where are your subtle textures,
the slight minty coolness of your lips,
the warmth of your breast?


12 thoughts on “Stilled times and speeding trains.

  1. very interesting piece, I particularly like how you gave tangible attributes to the intangible in the third stanza, and the descriptions throughout. I might suggest dropping ‘slightly’ in both instances (for brevity’s sake), but otherwise just about perfect. very effective.

    hope all is well

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