I never knew the speed of trains
howling in nighttime
like snowy owls outside
my window.
I never knew the weight of words,
yet with ink they fall
like embers from the sky.
I never knew the slowness of breaths,
inhaled one last time-
in linoleum rooms with faded walls.

She weeps like a child
yet sings like a woman.
Holds fragile blossoms in her palms.
Says ugliness is a human invention.
Don't ask her to tell you,
she will not speak.
On the midnight train-
a quiet encounter.
A broken artist
trying to get home.

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