Jumped on a first train, I erased it all.
The past is many stops away, I can rest without chasing
missing things and dreams
equals one long viaduct, so much to take in,
I can’t close my eyes now.
The sun will melt the fear of breathing,
colour dirty windows magic yellow gold.
The last stop is a long climb to a mountain,
like a future
guided by the moon and your echoing voice.