Feb 17, 2016
We take our place in a two seater too small for our bodies too big for our minds. You have the window seat I have the aisle seat. You look outside with your soul somewhere in the clouds and my ghost still hiding in my bed. You don't flinch when the trains hurtle towards you but I recoil at the baby's crying, a ringtone chiming, people's voices in the corner of my ear - men who speak in profanities and chuckles and mumbles school girls chattering and singing ghosts silently tapping on their phones. We both travel alone.
