7:15

Lauren Kim '27

I wait for you on platform three

where the spring air catches 

…everything

your smile, my breath

the promises we never kept

The station smells like rain and earthlike something that might bloom

if we stayed.

if you stayed.

Remember when we spun in circles in the damp grass

until the world became just us and dizzy?

This liminal space

between now and nowhere

holds us for one more moment.

7:15 pulls in

Steam rises

Your suitcase waits

I watch your silhouette blur behind the window

hair blowing sideways as the doors hiss open

You step up.

The platform shrinks in front of me

Bubbles from my eyes drift between us

like all the words I couldn’t catch

Yet the wheels still turn. Turn. Turn.

You're gone and I’m still

spinning

in the spring air

in the green grass afternoon

in the space where you were

The platform empties. The air goes still.

I think in bridges, in refrains

even here, as you go

Did you feel it—

this ephemeral thing we were

the moment you left, 

when everything we were 

became everything we used to be?

I stand here inhaling the fresh air, 

smelling grass and goodbye

still spinning

and my nose tingles

pinches

stinging with saltiness

and the wind picks up

and the grass trembles

and my voice rises

Did you hear it?

The sound of my breath

becoming a whisper

becoming a song

becoming everything

The station lights flicker

all at once

all burning bright

and the rails roar under your departing carriage

and the steam becomes music

and every goodbye becomes a melody

that echoes

echoes

echoes

I am still spinning

still reaching

still singing

into the place you were

and the world doesn’t stop

and spring doesn’t stop

and I don’t stop

spinning.