We lay on the roof of my car under the sun,
the heat was intense but we were
too much in love to feel anything else.
Two hours we lay there, didn’t say a word,
just watched that blue ocean above us
crystallise into a twilit canopy.
Clouds shapeshifted into deep memories
neither of us could quite recall,
the lingering sense of familiarity
clouded by all that had happened since.
We both spotted one like Oregon
and she squealed when she saw it,
remembering her home once more,
her first performance of Shanghaied in Astoria,
her parents so proud of her,
she so **** proud of herself.
Always the actress, playing a part
that someone else needed for a while,
then the next job would come along
and she would fill a new role.

I lie on the roof of my car under the sun,
the heat is intense and I climb back down.
I look for Oregon in the sky but craning my neck
makes it hurt, so I look down at the ground,
at the dust and the stones
and the stars that slowly lose their twinkle.
I jump in my car, the passenger seat empty,
and find a new world to discover.