you tell me how locomotives are powered
minutes before we hear the 2 a.m. train,
I have feared it for so long but not just now.
one cold orange night,
instead of sleep we choose to
go over old movies and viet congs.
you learn to look me in the eyes
and provide me with refuge in your embrace.
all things come to those who wait.
this has the *feel* of 2 am ~
ReplyDeleteThis is lovely, kenia. You imbue the lines with the gentle nature of love and friendship.
ReplyDelete