Tracks

Train is-a-coming, oh, yeah! On tracks snaking up the mountains, and down into the valley renown for its emerald-green pond. The journey is like a game of snakes and ladders. The journey is as intricate as a six-part marital, sung with seduction in mind. Oh, speedy seduction of scenery, melting by in shades of pink and amber earth. Icing like icicles drippingodripping mountains bearded in snow. The engine pulses and steams rivets of tears, which frost the passenger windows. The light is a beacon in the dark, a floodlit consciousness where once you could only see the whites of his eyes. Christmas paper lanterns sway from the ceiling in the dining car, bad the child pushes your finger into the icing of sticky marzipan. You stroke your husband's cheek, soft and silky like cat's fur. A beard is-a-coming you think with longing. You rope your hand through the crook in his suited arm, and wish he was your life raft. Sweet as cake.

The copyright of this post belongs to Claudia Anne