Many nights,
I glide in my car
along the narrow path carved
into the silent and solid
woods.

I play my human music
as I watch the inhuman
go by.

I realize what I've really loved
all these years
not who
never who

and I roll down the window and
stick my arm into the rushing air
my soft young hands
with their veins
are now a little older

I smile and I
laugh into the night

blissfully
alone