You lean into these curves
like we were going faster
down these one lane back-roads.
My dog, Moon, curled on some coats
beside me in the back.
My window cracked, cold, keen air
sweeps my hair, a breeze of
kisses like a natural
mother spreading aloe
on my sunburns. We blaze on,
winding through twists and turns.
The road is out there. Trust me.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
You lean into these curves
like we were going faster
down these one lane back-roads.
My dog, Moon, curled on some coats
beside me in the back.
My window cracked, cold, keen air
sweeps my hair, a breeze of
kisses like a natural
mother spreading aloe
on my sunburns. We blaze on,
winding through twists and turns.
The road is out there. Trust me.