jueves, 2 de marzo de 2017

February 28, 2017 9pm

Shepherds Bush

The rail...the train roaring, bringing your voice in the morning. The rail...the train...the roar and your voice again. 
It´s you again, but I can´t see you, this moment

There not yet. There will

One, two, three...the platform...dirty, grey, rough, empty...no one, no life.

I squeeze my eyes tightly, in a rage 

I am now in Shepherds Bush, the wagon door is open

I squeeze my eyes furiously, I do not want to look


My heart outside the wagon, still beating on the ground. 

Dirty, grey, rough, empty ground.

I am at Shepherds´s Bush, at this moment.

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