tasting the sweet rain tracing down my face...
unitelligible sounds and benign utterances break the silence...
i watch the blue fog slowly move in,
penetrating each and every glance of mine eye...


i watch the blue train slowly pass by ~
soon to chase away the distance between now and then....
acquiring rights of an assumed passenger ~
warming my feet within her cabin's frame,
passing in review before her porters and residents...I ask...

what will they see of me?

who will i let them see?

not me...

not now...

i want to ferry the passageways incognito....
empty and void is how i feel,
still warm to touch,
but too cold to feel...

like this blue train...

like this choking blue smoke...

like the blue cloak of the morning fog.

meloncholy is my mask and mood,

just now...

for this short ride to nowhere.

Gregory