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I sat
in the empty car,
waiting by the crossroads
for a passenger
who never came.
I saw
the gray sky
on this leaden day,
and I wondered
if you noticed
or even cared.

my mind created
fragments of made-up scenes.
Your phantom image
on tinted windows
of superimposed reality
haunted me.
I struggled to unravel
layers upon layers
of beginnings and ends,
until knowing
brought exhaustion
to my weary heart.

How will it be
if I speak
words unsaid?
Will you listen
if I ask …
why does the rain
on glass panes
look like tiny drops
of splattered tears?
And why does the sky
mirror the ashen earth?
Why do rose petals
blossom and fall
like bleeding discarded dreams
on unswept dirt?
And will it matter to you
if my heart …
would burst
your indifferent world
with thousand tiny
pulsing crimson
rivers of tears?
And will my open flesh
become strange
unfamiliar chambers
in your stoic space?
Does my nakedness
seem like blasphemy
in your restrained hallowed place?

I heard
the keening lament
of a speeding bus;
howling, rushing past ignored streets —
so like clogged arteries of the heart.
Its raw wailing cry
through me.
It echoed across
the vast emptiness
of my hungry unsettled soul —
my heart started beating.
The traffic light
red, yellow …. Green.
Once again, you left me
tripping on uncertainty.
And I wondered how I got here?
On the open lane,
licking my lips in anticipation —
Because this time,
I know
I have to go.