Take Me Home

And so on slipstream nights I promised not to promise you anything. Laid in dim fluorescence, begging the landscape I never see anymore to simulate you for nine seconds so I can simply lean back and absorb. Sharpied epitaphs on impermanence and cast glances at each other as through the crack in a door. Let me talk in circles that disorient, and always asked for more. Spread out under astronomy and taunted time to pass incandescent. Caravaned across the desert to sit in parking lots and see each other far from home. Driving through the crude-oil night, explaining why I'm perpetually alone. And for a moment feeling like I wasn't.

I dream now that I'm sleeping in your infinite hair, late for everything, my anxiety obsolescent.