from the outside of a dream : its permeable membrane

 

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floundering in vacuum

retching in water

grasping at darkness

clawing and such

a black horse quenching at a river unseen

a black tongue dives in,

tumult,

routine.

the mare is at peace,

only wild to my touch.

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remote

Sandal Soles - Medieval Art @ MET

she knows a person she’s never touched yet

physically

just a soul she’s encountered from afar

someone with moods and likes and jokes and heart ache

same station, opposite platform,

a breathing figure

not reaching out for anything,

just waiting for something good to come by,

just like she is.

so they’re both just sitting here (and there)

with vague ideas about things etc.

one stands up to get a snack from the vending machine,

the other thinks that maybe she’ll do the same.

melancholic, yet nothing close to it.

she knows what it’s like to be alone in a small place,

yet certainly not lonely everywhere.

there’s someone else, quite like her, quite like.

both just wonder what the other would do

if the platforms were to merge into a great hall,

but feed that thought no further.

why-cause the separation is the wait

for a carriage to take each one

where they’re meant to go.

the divide assumes no company is needed

for any distance, for any while.

so the passengers sit where they are,

waiting to board a train,

both turn their heads to the sound

of a fog horn.

right there on those rail tracks that isolate the platforms,

is an anchoring ship.