roads

without streetlights...two left turns and i was back in a memory, sepia tinted, idealistic yet fresh, the smell of kisses years past due came back, haunting like ghosts, until i pulled away...

seven years to the day of the last embrace. maybe six. the fog, heavy. the bullshit, heavier. songs dancing in and out of sequence, scanning, searching for something worthwhile. lasting. foreverlike.

around the bend. whispers calling. faint enough to be loud. footballs flying like missles. avoiding contact. driving faster.

another road.