Train Station
"I'm beautiful, aren't I?" - because he can't find the time
Dreamy tracks convey a steam engine
Into a substream where he is the conductor
There, stone sprouts from water
Faceless spirits board the shuttle
But she follows on foot
The sea churns, catches red and yellow - icy sheets
On the other side of nowhere, the caravan pulls in
She can not find him - pairs of mists
Watching her from among the luggage racks
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