Almost cheating is that almost car wreck
You could see coming, but avoided in
The last second. Except this accident
Is one you sped towards, pressing down the
Gas pedal and unbuckling your seatbelt—
Coming close enough to see the bristles
Of a two-day beard, to hear uneven breath,
To breathe a deepness of his for your own.
But, you averted the kiss that would have
Tasted like Spanish wine and cigarettes,
A harvest of sad-song regret, and the
Unimaginable consequence of
Skin and muscle scraping against asphalt
At seventy-five miles per hour.
1 comment:
do you have any links?
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