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Train station limbs

You are the flinch my heart makes. Naked skin against the sun stained pavement. Naked souls against each other’s space. Exposure. Never have I felt exposure, like listening to your heart ball into a fist, right under my eardrum. {Never have I wanted to crawl inside of someone else’s skin so badly.} Your breath a siren, red swollen light bleeding into my chapped mouth; maybe I got tired of swallowing all the promises you couldn’t keep. You are a train inside my train station limbs. I could not run fast enough to catch you. You promised you would wait for me. I promised I wouldn’t believe you this time. I guess I got sick of your fire extinguisher hands all over my body, never putting out the fire. I guess I got tired of chasing after a train that never wanted to be caught.

I miss the way my name sounded in your mouth.
I miss your laughter, even as it sits, ringing, right next to me—
I don’t know where you are.
I think you’ll always be right next to me.

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