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