Our Station

Between two destinations — standing at the station — we found each other. A cloudy sky, above our heads, uneven ground, beneath our feet. We found each other and surrendered to a magical call as if imprisoned and seething beneath our skin: to the call of a kiss. Whip: the downpour. Stone: the hail. Sky and earth: twisted together. Far from us, outside us! Near us, beneath our skin, the magical summons of our kiss mighty, enfolded us, without letting us go. We kiss each other in secret between two destinations happy with the station elated by the heat of each other’s heart beneath the downpour...