OUCH

mile 104 on
one-oh-one
the car on the overpass above my head-
a shooting star rushing across the night sky.
how metaphorical.

i'm so happy

the marbled dog's eyes burned opalescent;
orange and green in the night light.
neighbor-voices next door:
a chattering, illuminated house through the trees.
foreign spice-rack smoke burns my throat
and collects a film on the back of my tongue.
the night is calm and lukewarm.
vibrations from the highway travel long-distance
to the cilia in my ears and my body charges me
$1.99 for the nostalgia.
nicotine-high with my eyes staring up at the
never-ending universe-sky.
i'm so at peace and so torn, missing you.