0 3 . 0 8 . 1 1

the train horn is

this town
is my childhood
is my college years
is summertime
is warm evenings with windows propped open
soft breezes,
sand stuck to my calves,
night-blooming jasmine

i return home to a room
glowing warm
orange, peach
golden
the sweet spot of the day

&
(just like that)


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