Breadcrumb #375
CLAUDINE NASH
Wherever you are in your
small corner, there is a
train rolling through you
carrying all the beings who
have ever loved the dull
colors of something or
someone to life. And
though the walls of your
room may be worn and
thick with neglect, if
you stretch this moment
so thin
that the enemy in your head
can’t whisper,
you may feel the cars
of this train speed through
all the empty stations you
have ever known,
so much so
that when you glance
at the strangers who pass
through this dim and
icy morning,
the deepest tints and
hues within you
start to vibrate,
you detect
the secret sound
the world makes
when it speaks all
its languages at once.