A minute in the metro

The doorbell rings, the city slides by,

The station name is watermarked on the glass.

The wings of the newspaper sleep on my shoulders,

A blue silence hangs on the handle.

I take a minute out of my pocket,

I count my breaths one, two, the crowd thins a little.

The light marks the walls of the tunnel,

A child's smile is as light as the holes in a ticket.

The map above my head flashes and goes out slowly,

I see a dot of mine inside the dot.

The phone screen sleeps, I sit with my knees bent,

I lower the door of my heart and bring it in.

The announcement of the next station comes softly

I don't get off, I just get a little lighter.

The train rushes by, leaving inside

A word as calm as a river: Stop.