Under blinking overheads,
my coat collects the steps.
Miss the bus by seconds flat,
glass reflects where I once sat.
The vending hum is breathing slow,
like a voice I used to know.
Tastic keys and water's drip,
sync with steps I almost skip.
Is someone else awake with me
on this island built by circuitry?
Sun red pings in pockets deep,
I wait for signals in my sleep.
The bench
holds all I haven't said.
Puddles frame a world reversed,
every echo gently cursed.
I try the phone booth once again,
just to hear the line remain.
Shelter here beneath
the sign of roots long gone, of worn out time.
A route that loops but leads nowhere,
still I ride like someone's there.
Is someone
else awake with me on this island built by circuitry?
02:44
04:01
04:44
04:30
