The car’s not on but
your seatbelt is.
Going zero miles per hour,
you are guaranteed to hit
nothing.
You are guaranteed to see
nothing.
You are guaranteed to go
nowhere.
You’re in a safe place— at home,
without a single smudge on the exterior,
without a single story to tell,
without a single soul
waiting to hear what’s next.
Don’t worry.
I’ll wave as I drive by,
going 80 down some coastal highway,
filling up pages with every breath I take.