locomotive hope

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trying to stop you
from leaving would be
a lot like trying to stop
a train leaving the station
by sticking my hand out
and hoping
when it hits
my open palm it will
feel the strength
of my will
and will
ricochet back into the station.


and then i would keep
all your passengers here
and throw a party where
everyone gets wine
but that would do
very little


because you are full of
ideas that have no patience
for my parties
and the wine will only
make them crave the next station
and the momentum of
movement
like angry drunks who
realise that they are being
kept stationary by the brakes that
i have pulled


so instead
when i stick my hopeful
open palm out
your shoulder will make
me stumble back and
i will ricochet
reeling from the strength
of your will to move


not to leave
because this station is meant
to be on your route
but just to move somewhere
new where the burdens i have
deposited on the carriages of
your spine can be
released into the wild world
and you can take on some more
who have not yet been
nauseated by the motion
of my air caressing your
back


and arms


and hair


and where your engine can be
stoked and fresh breath can
flow through the engine
room that i have heated up
with my angry drunken passengers
and their reprimanding words
when they were made to slow down
for the pinprick that is my hand
against the broad nose of
your train


because you glanced my way
as you left and
let out some of your
pushing steam
and i could hear the slowing
of the tracks against the wheels
that never ground to a halt
but only stuttered for a moment
with a promise that this route
goes both ways
and the station is dropping behind
the train
to feed a new one soon.

Created: Mar 24, 2014

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