The wind stopped
choking its last whispers
through the pine branches

The wind stopped
pirouetting softly
into asphyxiation

The wind stopped
strangling my shoulders
of their strength

The wind stopped
smothering the sail
I keep across my chest

I died like an American Spirit

in a torrent of sparks
choking on the exhaust
of her hot red little s.u.v.

bearing: North North-West

on the highway where I died

all broken skin
and burned up insides
smothered against the asphalt

by the rain I'd loved so much

on the highway where I died

Time is finding a way

To lose itself


Out there in the space



Between the stars




Time is finding a way





Without me