Midnight Train
I waited until your breath wove itself
into my curly hair before boarding
Now I sit in recycled heat, trying not
to see my reflection as I look out the night-darkened window
Shadows deepen, the train, a silver knife, slices the opaque
Remnants of Christmas outline invisible houses
Parents are kissing their children goodnight
My seatmate is a theology major
overhead lights dim in our car
we begin one of those talks that only occur at night in whispers
I remember I am human, finite
shuttling through darkness
The train yearns for morning
He is gone and I miss him for years
not him, but his God, my God
who I remember only in darkness
who makes me yearn for light