strange beings we are
in the front seat of my car
****** out of our tree
you kept touching me
running your fingers down my arm
my goose bumps looked like galaxies
I watched in slow motion as the cigar
let out a beautifully winding smoke stream
that stretched across the dash
like a blanket that moves
with the sound of our speaking

in between two buses
at a random school
in Davidson county
lost and impatient
you looked at me as if
you did not hate
your surroundings
for the first time
since you met me

with a full tank of gas
and it is the weekend
we drove around for hours
and laughed
we needed to see the product
of dying leaves
and I believe
on those nights
we found exactly what is was
that we were seeking