Numero un: Train...

missed the sand and sea
missed the backtrack
missed the rails that split

myself and others hidden from the waves

somber olive green rustles tenuously on
arid limbs in a stray wind
an arms length away
the abandoned homes
the graveyards
the loose blades of grass
sleep on the edge of earth in morning fog

all of it dashed past my seat
freezed in each window frame
a sliver of the breakdown in tune with the
crackling heat and tangerine coal
the countryside smudged among perception
all of it blurs

it left me

abrasion, inertia, metal scraping against metal
hasty and abrupt, jarring placid caffeine
cooling the exhale of a boiled twist with sweet vanilla
disrupting the warm, molded ceramic resting between my lips
the jolt

eyes shift ahead, empty, strained, unresponsive
lonely directive geometric outlines gild calm, plush, beige

a hotel manner embraces champagne, glass
so neutral
fairly so
everything is lost
grounded by gravity

In the middle of a major edit.*

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