Be drunk
with me on too much wind screaming through
opened
midnight windows, 70's am radio, and laughter.
Driving
fuzzy through this abandoned desert cut through
with
wishful roads. A plume of dust rises signaling the
failure
of our surrender.
Slide
across the vinyl and crash your hip into mine, two
shores
met in the curves of this ancient sea. We have
driven
long into the silence when the roar of existence is
hushed by
the certainty of mornings pink dawn
.
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