it's the heavy drum beats with the windows down
that i'll miss the most
the one-hand-on-the-steering-wheel cigarette flicks
squinting in the sun
and the latino boys hanging out of windows
telling me i'm beautiful
the same way he used to
all lust - no heart
all garbage
picked up with the dust and sand when the wind picks up on the freeway
smeared spider legs on the windshield
lime or turquoise liquid spraying up like a fountain in times square
joan jett on the stereo, speakers rattling on the verge of bursting open
faster miles an hour
baby on board stickers and
flashing headlights like a beating heart just to warn you
of the radar gun up ahead
the rush of slowing down just in time
and smirking like you've beat the game
lipgloss in the ashtray
and you beside me with your hand on my thigh
I love the way you write. I felt like I was you while I read this. Like it was me sitting in the car. Plus I can relate to some of it, lol. But I like the emotion in it. It struck twice, once in the middle, and again at the very end. Always a pleasure! :)
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