Last Year, Rosedale Station

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Blue air, cold, charged with minute
Particles accelerating on the tracks and
We stood on parallel platforms
You northbound, I stood waving at
Slow static of years, reflecting
The windows reflected my face
As the subway pulled away, blue
Light of charged rooms and oxygen
Particles exposed to time
Wait, can I just say how much I
But the sensations accumulate
A new form of night, a new form
As kids, we struggled for a pronoun
Still do, still waking up at 4 a.m
And I wanted to tell you that
There's a blue spark between
My gut and a sentence, waiting
For any imminent disaster to
Cause strangers to meet eyes, talk
It needs to threaten all of us
On the subway, the disaster of
Not finishing sentences, half
Life of a new imagination, we held
The old sense of the word virtual
Of apparent images, a reflection
Cut when it arrives at the terminal
Station, the end of the subway line
Charged with sudden bursts
And the sparking of cold breath

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