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Back Seat Window Lover 2
I cant have.
The cracked window sends her hair
reaching towards the back seat
Its scent rushes into my brain
paralyzing an already slow breathing process
I light another one as she tosses hers onto
the road..
and grips the steering wheel with both hands
with a sudden change of thought
that I am no longer in
And as the headlights bite the air, I watch
her disappear into her past
Two hours go by, and she is still there
gripped with a contradicting apathy
that no one else in this car comprehends
except this girl
in the back seat
staring at her lips
waiting for her thoughts to drip out of them
minus the subconscious guilt
while I make love to her through a
small rearview mirror
and visit places where we can never go again
Although I dislike the orientation of this poem, I think it is structurally very sound and beautiful.
J-Called
Hi Kristi. This is such an amazing poem. In my dreams I experienced feelings displayed in this poem. And I am honored that you thought positively of my writings. After reading all of your work, I am very flattered.
-Ruth