Poetry | Journal

A passing moment of peace, a second of serendipity.

No noises, only the peepers

and a gentle pressure from the waves below our feet. Just a moment

but a matter profound enough to resonate within,

a silence so thick that it shook awake a dormant feeling at the core

our, cores.

And I told you

back home our most quiet spaces still have trains

that shake the leaves and refuse us such moments. Constant madness,

even if only in the distance. Out of reach but never out of mind.

Approaching my departure, but amidst the calmness,

wrapped around each other’s fingers

like dysphoric marionettes drunk

on the idea, temporary symbiosis,

it’s unclear which of us is the puppeteer

but it doesn’t really matter in the stillness of the lake.

Just a singular moment of serenity, you and me,

breathing in the blooming spring dusk

eyeing each other like buck and doe high

on hunter’s musk, we broke

the silence with our bodies but my mind still lingers there.

Clutching to the quiet space between your shoulders

that held me still for one fleeting moment.

The train by my house reminds me of you, and now, I appreciate its presence.