Boat Without Sea

A boat without a sea traverses the corridors of the nocturnal subway.
Its hull is iron, yet remains a sail that brushes passengers’ feet.
The rails are a current, the lights an artificial moon drawing shadows on the seats.
It advances through sliding doors and glass reflections, leaving a trail of dream.
The neons scream promises of light to invisible waves that sleep beyond the walls.
Every carriage is a sail open to the breath of metal wind.
The boat continues searching for an horizon that isn’t there, but which night carries within.
And if dawn arrives, remains the sea echo in the tunnels.