hauled away by
the chugging of
engines and a
rhythmic ****. I
am still within
three hundred miles
of your arms
not too far
at all but
far enough away
so that you
keep bubbling forward
in the tea
kettle that is
my mind. I
heat my thoughts
to a steady
boil and then
try to take
you off my
mind but alas!
you are stubborn
and I am
stuck as all
the increasing miles
stack upon themselves
I try to
distract myself with
story and song
but you don't
go away and
all I can
feel is the
rhythmic jerking of
three hundred miles