could she even move?
what was left beside the
thudding feeling of silence?

the evaporated smell of karma,
to deserve this, she'd done something.
the pounding grows louder the longer

she remains conscious, eyes
roaming the platform,
already knowing what no one would say.

the ghost of a fleeting glimpse,
the only thing to keep strength,
she'd continue to wait,

until some kind stranger,
fell from the sky,
and told her all the wrong words;

one. more. time.