Member Poem

what’s lonelier than an empty platform,
a solitary guard, the blue screens announcing time,
in a place where nothing is no longer linear,
standing there sending pictures of trains to an old love,
counting steps, wondering how the journey
of life has led you here,
wishing for the smell of frangipanis,
old love’s strange smell of acetone and perfume,
a lunar new year, only lonelier.