It doesn’t look the same,
this highway we drive.
The lights aren’t as bright,
with their dull luminescence,
the scorching violet neglects to agitate.
I’m under a new sun.
It’s not so often, we’ve felt we’ve won.
We’re set on our course.
Our victory lap is set in motion.
Rain swears to douse my windshield.
I know the colors will mesh,
something that’s all too familiar.
Our puddle jumping daydream,
driven us to braving this drive.
There’s something mischievous in the night sky,
too.
The summer breeze blowing through groomed trees.
There’s something tingling in our subconscious.
A greater awakening lurks within,
hovering just above all we’ve ever cared about,
all we’ve ever known.
The lights are dying on new pavement
and I’m resting in this moment.
Windows are down and the sun is
cowering behind buildings too tall,
clouds too gray
and mountains too wide.
The purple and flamingo pink sky
wavers in and out of sight, chased
by the darkening gray.
Trees whiz past,
holding hands with telephone poles
and busy streets.
Still.
All is still in this moment,
while we’re whizzing past at illegal speeds.
There’s a lack of liability,
a sense of childlike wonder.
Snapping each photograph and being
set free in every capture,
lost in our mock reality.
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