Stepping out of time, a plaintive whistle with magnetic repulsion fills the air with steam but finds no voice. I smell its hot blanketing embrace, as it clouds my vision of you waiting on the platforms edge, looking eagerly at your watch like it's your next lover. My body moves to smash the clock, bleeding for its efforts. I drop the crumpled ticket in my hand, and move away from the fear sitting beside me like a disapproving sibling. Her eyes dark pools of doubt seeded with intentions from another time and place. Ignoring the train, it leaves the station without me. We stand together under a broken clock. No trains arrive. Stepping out of time, we stare at each other across new formed space. Sudden endless possibilities of a different ending stack and flow as we step into the storied night. Soft whispers feed the stars with new insight, delighting photons as they dance, no longer trapped by distance or pain. Energy is released upward through bone and muscle and flesh. The circular breath of life is given and returned, grace thick in the air, bodies pressed to the earth. Stepping out of time, a surreal movie becomes life. It's characters aligned, two lovers relax into fate and spin towards each other with electromagnetic force. North and south, needs colliding then attracting with scientific inevitability. Laying down on a cloud, they dream a new ending. The director's cut where luck and God play the same part. Stepping out of time, what is lost is found, knowing itself to be there. It hides for eternity, stacked like graces gifts in superposition, fated to be seen by angel's gaze. With time-filled synchronicity, my train approaches and new endings unfold. I clutch a new ticket, printed in silver and amethyst and board the train, while remembering a soft kiss goodbye. You forgetting your watch, your worries and the future for just one short and timeless embrace, one alternate ending. Stepping out of time, I let go of the future and the story behind us, and fall asleep on a train with a stop for every dream. Waking up in another time, another life, with poetic thoughts building like 1001 Arabian nights, I've become a Shahrazad with stories to calm and captivate. Shall I tell you what we would do with another day out of time? Another hello and another goodbye? Another moment of grace?