I am searching for you in this sunlight of honey, the soothing warmth and the fifty degrees of the virginal breeze, the rhythm of wires, like belts, in a backdrop of motion, abandoned tires and telephone poles, like a row of old crosses, the water rings, river halos, the golden quaver of the melting afternoon, wavered by today's benign wind, like curious fingers tracing skin, the dull print of the moon, visible still, or visible already. I am searching for you in the cloud's design, brush strokes of air adorning the sky, like angel breath, boundless spaces, the faces of strangers sitting on each seat, the lyrics of songs I play on repeat, I listen for your name in the call of the train approaching the station, like the song of sirens, each stop a new syllable, codes like bible symbols, the howl of the breaks grinding the tracks like anxiety attacks. I stop. I am searching for you, but don't know what to find. You are already mine. 

-LBCH