it was early, really early on that cliff.
cool air, blue light
our new friend had to go (a busy woman in no rush).
we rolled a joint for her journey home.
our minds were cheeks flushed red and rosy but that was fading now. the sun that had risen just for us
swept slowly over the rest of this place.
began to wonder if she ever cared at all for her private audience. maybe.
but, probably not?
get in the car.
drive.
watch morning commuters swarm the PCH.
it all felt a little funny;
how this was the world, and the people here are so sad.
we giggled. a satirical sort of clarity began to settle.
this isn’t really it.
is it?
no.
maybe?
well, coffee should help.
music was still so beautiful but
now i knew that we could be the only ones hearing it this way.
i hoped that was not true.
pupils shrinking,
the world still rolling slowly but, with a sudden edge.
oh no.
i hope not.
maybe?
i turned towards the driver’s seat.
there, with thick-rimmed sunglasses,
those hands holding a freshly lit cigarette out the window,
you were; exactly the same.
