Your heart is pouring out

like black coffee.

 

You're a dog in a shuttle 

with it’s engines

burned out

in the vacuum of space.

 

You're a ghost

In the window

behind which lies a

a mountain of snow

thick with fir trees.

 

You’re the sole passenger 

on a train headed north,

your luggage is rattling

over your head

 

your destination

unreadable in the creases of the ticket

that you unfold and fold

back into your pocket,

 

just as you have done

so many times

over the years.