He Has a Certain Type of Significance
by Jules Hagains
He has a certain type of significance
That kind that you can never exactly put your finger on, but you know there is something lurking.
You know what I mean?
He is nervous. The mockingbird side of him shows through.
I hear him shuffle his feet. Anxiety radiates off of him -
Just because I was once blind never means I don't know his intentions.
I feel his aura. I can sense the blue dim mood.
He jumps. The fear ruins my vibe.
He is a bubble person. I can tell just by the intrusion reaction.
But...he will have to learn that as long as it rained, as long as he visits this bus stop
I will share my umbrella.
He needs it. He is a stranger.
But it rains here endlessly, and I will let no one stand in the rain.
He holds his express ticket closely as the bus pulls up, and I
Find it unfortunate to see him go, closing my umbrella as we board.
He breaks away from me, and I know we will go to different realities.
I see him examine the doors to pass through.
He goes through the very last, and so I
Feel sad, because that is the Nicher reality.
And that reality is dying. I feel bad, as much as I try
I will never understand what it is like
For your world to waste away, perhaps before your eyes.
Nomads, as I am, cannot understand.
It's just not possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment