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.

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