THE RIDE HOME

The night turns to deep, clear

indigo, freckled with stars

and a silver crescent moon.

I'm in the backseat

but the window won't roll down enough.

Stupid child safety.

For the first time all summer,

I'm fully alive.

There is something

about watching the sun sink on the horizon

so slowly…

so seductive…

coloring a pastel scene across the sky…

it pleases all my senses.

I was sweating so badly

that when we hugged,

cracking up like usual,

we stuck together.

Now, as cool evening air

gushes around me,

whipping back my greasy hair,

my neck and shoulders are chilled,

but my rosy face remains quite warm.

I love when, I alone,

know what I'm thinking.