I rest my head against the window
of a running train, using
my red raincoat as pillow;
half asleep, tapping laptop keys,
reading, surfing. Close, in the corner
of both smarting eyes I see
a blood red jacket blocking
out my view and, wondering,
why would you do that, you know,
hide from your own true reflection?
i think i like stories with people riding on trains for some reason unknown to me.
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