i wait for the trains to fall asleep.
miles away & they are my sleepytime sentinels.
i did not hear them the other night, when you sat on my porch in a husk of you & set your teeth against me, steel traps laid with velvet.
i did not hear them last week, when the past was in my bed without clothes asking for me by name, with slurs thick with lambency & the dawn of forevers ago.
i did not hear them when she dragged me across my apartment like a weatherproof stain, or when i crossed paths with her this afternoon, politeness in our voices, when the bruises have still not gone with the rain.
but i do hear them tonight, going somewhere else. leaving this town, leaving me, with my bracketed pauses & mis/motioned bedroom trapeze-ery.
moans that grow smaller at the city limits, the sure sign that i must go to dreams; away from the messy-meat of my daily, waking somniloquy.