This moment is still happening in my heart: Three cities

A love poem scrawled from one stranger to another	These people are still happening to me	Sometimes at night I ride the trains, and this is what I think	The pictures that I didn't take
Falling in love with strangers	Silence is as full of words as all your books	On the night train to Paris	Out of sight, still in mind, completely permanent
We trained the lions not to weep	memory palace	Softly, at first, as if it hardly meant it, the snow began to fall	The Silver City and the Silent Sea
Remembering the future in a different way than we remember the past	Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands	I remember the old tree laughing, as I leapt into the sky	Burning burning burning
Tell me a story about trains	Spark fiction	Hopping a freight train	emits showers of sparks
a snapshot of time	An Autumn Reverie	The train never did come that day	Half-forgotten memories that pop up randomly throughout one's life

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