It is the look
in the passengers eyes
just before the carriage explodes.
veins as bright as lighting.
Hands wrapped in pairs,
as we walk along the hospital corridor;
your hand in mine
the tremours engulfing us both.
I try to forget that our bodies are falling,
the carnage behind your eyelids.
But I can’t stop feeling
the vibrations in my bloodstream,
eager for my father to come back to life.