scattered between tolls

By blbest

your thighs sit comfortably
in the passenger seat beside me,
and i think of how i can no longer
place a hand on top of them
to comfort you
when you're tired or pained,
i can't wrap my arm around
your waist to pull you next to
me,
in winter, when it's cold;

this car's the silence
i'd assumed death'd hold.
and it's true, yet, something died here,
between the steering wheel and your
dark upholstered seat,
somewhere behind on the road
kicked by tires, tossed to the ditch
to rot with lost dogs
and thrown styrofoam cups.

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scattered between tolls

Created: Feb 26, 2010

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