if i should live
a hundred-hundred
lifetimes
i could die
ad infinitum
with no small
measure of joy
at a ripe old age
so long
as i never forget
your voice.

minor chords
in a haunting tone
purr from the car stereo—
late-night drive,
yellow glow
beneath interstate
street-lamps
interspersed
by passing headlights.

bound for a town
i hate, but carried
along by a firm, gentle
cadence. a vocal chord
melody coloring incessantly
outside the lines
of my psyche.

hydroplaning daydream
of kaleidoscopic color,
whispering insistently—
tempting me—to commune
with the gods and ****
the masters.
transport me
to your aurora
cosmic multicolor,
sonic wavelengths.