we were driving
with our love child
dead in the trunk
dead in my gut
thunder road on
repeat
reading in the
passenger’s seat
six pack in the back
fingers moving up
bare thighs
begging for some.
a bottle of sailor jerry on the
beach
licking the salt off
each other’s lips
and the word forever
worn as a promise ring.
snapped a photo,
me in a red
bathing suit,
which you kept on
the dashboard of
your Honda civic
98. it’s still there,
i hear,
lying flat
even though
forever
couldn't make it through the year.
we were driving with
our love child
dead in the trunk
dead inside my gut