Even White Is hidden
Photo Courtesy of lapostexaminer.com
I awaken to the trains 3 a.m. moans in the distance.
Somehow, I find her nightly release soothing.
I roll over and stretch out my legs that,
Are no longer tan and instead, are the soft color of milk.
But in this dark, and beneath these covers, even white is hidden.
I watch as the headlights beam off my walls.
I hear the engine whisper sweet somethings,
As it drives somebody away.
Away from me in this bed,
Away from these dreams I dream and these songs in my head.
Just like the train,
Just like you.