the road is empty
and the lights overhead
trace a steady beam over the yellow line
it is a summer night
and the stars have emerged
i know the constellations
but i hold my tongue
he smells of smoke and dead fruit
his hands are sticky with liquor
the scent settles in my hair
and i scowl, pulling away
when he smirks at me, it is dark
i realize there is no more magic in him.
we are running down the gravel
hearts in our throats
gasping for breath
slipping over the wet grass
ducking behind the trees
he is so close i smell his jacket
his hand hooks familiarly into my side
but nobody peers out the window
so i pull back and run
i run and run and run
so that it feels my lungs
are almost as dead as his
i realize blearily
that i am running away from him
rather than with.
when we hit the familiar pavement
sucking in lost oxygen
my soul is beating, alive
i look for him, smiling
but he is a moon dipped in liquor
my hair stills smells of smoke
and he is only a stranger.
