Fast notes on a slow train
coursing through someone else's vein
in a place too large for my small heart
this EKG is off the chart
desolate body craving space
in a place too small for saving face
i'm empty like a barren bride
or a liquor bottle washed and dried
always eager to run and hide
in a place too cold to stay inside
Slow notes on a fast train
evidence of a life's remains
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