And for now I’ve been stayed alone
With my own self.
Who does tell what can want
This face, the hesitating?
Who does tell what can it want
In the window of a train?
My black shadow stares at me
In your tunnel,
Remote life! Your remote land
Clacks onto track,
I only watch my orphaned being
In the window of a train,
My memory is my strange face
In the window of a train –
I am far away from myself:
I got too far away!
I stayed somewhere there,
Alas, I stayed!
And the train keeps speed along,
Speeds along below me…
19/03. 2019., by J. W. Cassandra
