I got your text message this morning
at 12:49 AM
as I was barreling down Interstate 90
surrounded by caravans of trucks
who flit up and down the easy hills between Erie and Toledo
like sheet metal moths in the lamplight
I could see, feel, taste nothing
outside of my hulking lepidopteran companions
and the white dashed line I'm pulling in
racing to the sinker at the end
and that's you