and pushing along
trains over planes
fortune brings long hair and hips
next to Me.
The other guy moves
The deep voice is meters away.
over borders, words, one or two tiptoe
off the top and off the escape of bottom lip.
uniforms dissipate; no canines this time.
I’ve made a neighbor with an accent.
“where’s your pillow?”
both away from nos maisons.
she says I’m the one with the accent
from across the Atlantic.
My teeth show and my stomach dances.
No letters in 2013,
We’ll sit beside again.