on the train south
we try to build love
like monuments
until our edges crack
and memory crumbles.
like limestone
in rain. even words
meant to last. bodies
pressed into rock—
even they elude.
still, we sit,
apart and together.
folding our hands
over each other.
blood in the turpentine.
your hand tracing my palm,
as if the lines could hold.
a grief, given permanence.
the sound of your voice
dissolving.
even the silence comes pained.
on a train south
inspired by #prompt words:
#pained
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