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Here's another poem

I glided my tongue across pearl sharp teeth. Remembering my own body. Funny how when you get older you become less familiar with yourself. Staring out of jump seat trying to see the world for the first time again. Closing my eyes after turn when street looks lonely. slower now. Its slowed down so much. And in silence my mind is less friendly. My quite expressionless fears of time moving faster than the speed of my own experience. I am the ink blot good time traveler. Leaving behind a someone that I used to know ephemeral was I good company or not. So we must keep moving. Bounce faster than the speed of truth and self reflection. Faster than wrong decisions. Faster than. Relocate some future strange newness and take no time to figure out where it comes up short. There are no trains anymore. We tore up the rails and used the metal to stake ourselves down. To stay dormant and silent in somewhere. We cannot flee without consequence. Our migration the death of the world smoke and haze that tears an environment we owe nothing to. Move move move. Again. Move. Turn out your pockets and unpack your bags on the highway of never ending route. Turn out your desires and turn on the lights. Burn. Burn. The sulfer explosion for as long as it can take it. And remember our bodies of summer scraping warmth.