The Passenger

She sits
immersed and oblivious
to those ones placed around her

Her face
sharpened and serious
her eyes draw into slumber

A refined brush of hair
curved skyward at each ear
her lips cut fine and smooth
caress her philtrum groove
my eyes her sight does sooth
as we sit still and move


(I wrote this on the train when I went to the Download Festival yesterday. I think motion activates the creative aspects of my mind and will; I started writing another piece on the train back too….)

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