Writing Down Stuff

I saw a train moving upwards on glass Reflections always deemed less real Yet when all is parallel and not there Maybe we can swirl our fingers in 2D I'm not ruling it out I'm not ruling out understanding proximity The way it drags at whatever is beneath my skin Not anything that can be dissected Just tell me how I passed by How we move in directions but feel from distance I ache sometimes Just thinking about what it is to belong I can't follow trains heading to the sky Nor locate the hum that I hear Tracks tell me something But I don't hear it beyond being soothed I can sleep on a journey Did I tell you the trains go any way they want?