She was the engine. An absent name mentioned to me in the backlogs of dreams.

I would follow her across the difficult days pursuing me. I was without a true and proper home.

I had abandoned my legacy. I had relinquished my freedoms to taste the sweetness from her eyes.

‘Are you to bring me your medicines..?’

The question didn’t phase me. I took to her secrets as if I was the top-soil of her mass fields, made lonely by the Sun and quenched by the Stars and Moon above.

‘I am the wheel attached to the center’s balance. I am the stone surrendered before the heart can return home….’

But I had no true and proper home. But I had no crown to call my own. But I had no words left to borrow.

She wasn’t impressed by my facades.

‘Are you willing to become my medicines..?’

My mouth formed a worthless gesture, and for a significant moment I felt my body wavering unsteadily as the water levels continued to fall beneath the acceptable levels of my wounded doubts.

‘Are you willing to become my medicines..?’

I was shoved aside. The momentum casting me into the strangling deeds of shallow waters waiting for me to let my guard down. Her voice was the sound of a car wreck being played in reverse. The drowning daggers of the waters slit open my sudden Lust….

His hand shook my shoulders violently.

‘..cmon Mister…the engine died. We have another bus for you to take.’

His breath was rancid with regret and poor eating habits. A damp piece of cheese left out in the Sun first, and then the rains….

Outside of the bus, thunder shook apart the Night like an angry old dog still in pursuit of the hunt.