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The sun rises
He rises
Bus
Train
Work
Lunch
Train
Bus
Home
Sleep
Head down, he walks briskly down the streets
Locked onto the façade in his hands
No new hellos on any platform

He rises
Bus
Train
The friends in his hands die
But his eyes are alive
With the fire of loss

For words
His eyes are stuck on her open mouth

No words
The train arrives and the doors open
Her beauty and the train rush down the tracks

Staring down the empty tracks
He whispers
Hello.




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