The promise
of tonight
stirs within

Let it
soon
begin

Surrounded by watercolor sunsets,
I'm left with fifty slow miles
of untamed back road.

A half smile stays fixed
on my lips
and tilts slightly to the right.

Cracked pavement makes wheels
tremble in fine rhythms
and the heavy pulse
in my inner thighs
beats to match.

I'm on my way home
and in love
with the single notion
that I've been somewhere.

While I drive,
there's a gentle devil
who sits on my shoulder.
He croons satisfying tones
as he kisses my earlobe
and breathes this message
sensually down
the side of my neck:

“Mmm, baby,
consider this
your first lesson
in survival
on Pleasure Island.”

So, here we are
again. ******* smoke
through glass straws
and frequenting the local
food trucks. Here we are,
pressing our chins
into our chests to see
who has more, only
so we can laugh about
it and somehow end up
losing our clothes.

But what is so appealing
about someone
who makes you want
to give up your dreams?

Every failed relationship has left me
with a scar. I run my fingers down
the rigid skin each day
at school, and remember.

A boyfriend I had in high school
called me selfish
when I told him I never
wanted to have children.

I’ve never left
the states. Never seen fresh
snow, never even been
to a wedding.

Marriage, as I understand,
marks the start of
the end. And it terrifies me
that so many people

start the end
before they’ve fully lived.
I’ve never been to
the grand canyon,

but I’ll probably be
married in New Mexico,
burning my dreams in
our backyard fire pit

before I get to go.