Night-time encounters of the first kind
Published in
6 hours ago
The spaceship is waiting
A man without reason,
or perhaps with too much,
speaks to no one
on the metro with his bike.
Two women nod,
responding
to a monologue.
He speaks into the void,
gazing at nothing
with glassy eyes
fixed on the women.
Two one-way conversations,
existing only
for themselves.
Two universes,
different,
yet so close,
hermetically
sealed.
I wish to land
with my spaceship
and explore the universe
of the man with the bike
on the metro,
who clearly
had lost his way
in the wrong dimension.