Melancholy

AND I FALL IN LOVE EVERY 4 MORNINGS

AND I FALL IN LOVE EVERY 4 MORNINGS

I’m often waiting for that green light, that next train departing for another mechanical lift up to the top that’s going to kick my shoes away, ignite myself like the first time, with that dizzy taste of vertigo in my mouth.
Butterflies are flapping in my stomach while riding up. Am I going too high?
My feet are not touching the ground anymore by the time you take my hand in the streets of Kyoto.