Act 3: South train headed north.

I’m leaving you for a little while. On a South train, east of Tennessee, headed north. Lyrics of I don’t want to set the world on fire, muted to soft, heard only over metal hitting the metal track and making it pulse.

I feel the train leaving the platform, soon to be in your arms. My playlist ready, to think about you some more.

Holding a Ralph Ellison,
From the bookstore, west in the city,
Where the sun rests last,
And the evening stays hot.
When the last time he said to me,
“Neshama sheli, where are you?
I feel…
Lost.”
Then written on the corner of,
Page 12, under Louis Armstrong,
“Don’t go, ma.”

I miss you as I enjoy my hand rising up my leg crossed, I picture your face. Two breaths I feel right there, closing my eyes, wanting to slide across. Biting my lip with teeth, fixing my skirt,
Heading north.
No, stop.

I think I hear you,
He,
Whisper to me, both,
Don’t stop, and,
He will never love you, not how,
I do.
Remember,
I pick you up,
When he falls off.

And,
You remind me,
How much he breaks my heart.
Between Jerusalem and Mexico,
A hold on me, with a layover,
Between South and North.

Now sounds of a whistle broke free, accompanying,
Two dreams sitting between happiness,
And remorse.
Holding you tonight, but,
Only in my thoughts.
Until,
A train from Penn,
Heads South,
Three weeks from now,
Quarter past,
5 o’ clock.

Romanced by the South.
…
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