driving this fast,
I imagine what it would look like if the vehicle were invisible—
just our bodies in a seated position,
propped against nothing,
streaking through the night.
the moon’s great laugh surfaces on the horizon
beneath the stars,
her closest (albeit very far away) friends,
those messengers
several billion years late
and we make our way
home—
snaking through the silent animals of the trees
and driving through clouds
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