Subway station in Milan
August 29th
Tea stained blouse and dirty toes
Weary from the steps of the Duomo
Pigeons peck at the railroad tracks
By the great clock I wait in a pew
I would give anything to touch you
I smile at a man that reminds me of a pocket watch
I watch icecream melt in the case of the gelato shoppe
August 29th, train station in Milan
Heat falls from the rafters and down to the pews
I watch babies bumble in their tidy shoes.
I think of how there is no one I argue with but you
“Tutto a bordo” I sling my bag and walk with butterflies
Night has transformed the floor to newspaper print
I carry a map and a watch that refuses to tick
I do not want a sense of time but only ever place
I see lovers board, linger, love, and contemplate
The walls of the station are polluted and dark
Coins drop, eyes blink, bells ring, and steam gives
La stazione is a circus in a paper bag.
Postage stamps in my pocket, I miss your hands
Milan will never be the same.
I’m breathless and wait to shout your name.
