at the Southeastern corner of the station
where red steel blends into the tracks
or washed out graffiti creations,
turn left and avoid the road block,
turn right onto the fresh tar,
navigate around the sidewalk,
ride on and mind the parked cars
stop beside the grey block.
Here, before and after town,
a place no one ever missed,
they have recently torn down
the house where we first kissed,
in a room with no doors,
after everyone had left us,
all alone on wooden floors.
It must have caused a lot of dust.