Quiet, desperate. I drive slowly, absorbing the thick deliberate consciousness that seeps from engines
that should be slumbering in suburban garages.

It's the only dog eat dog.

The road, the pavement.
We've met, they let me go, probably to meet you,

And they laughed when you turned your back, laughed harder when I stayed...
and whispered 'you'll be back' as home lapped me up.