I miss you like there's no tomorrow,
but I keep driving and stopping,driving and stopping
in mud hole, shanty towns.
I see girls with huge tits and
flea brained ideas of jucuzi ambiance.

You know that's never been my style.

Too much shit and not enough chlorine I've always said
and my motor has never been so clogged,dry and out of will.

My dashboard is cracked and staying that way for a
long,long time or until the wheels fall off.

I will move forward.

It is sure to happen.
I see landmarks way off in the distance
and want them to remain there until I see fit.

I want them to remain there until your face is no longer there...out there,
in the setting sun reminding me of just how imperfect that perfect can be.

I'm eating things that should've been portioned by you,made by you.

I miss the fire but not the burn.

I miss the fucking but not the orders.

I miss the smile but not the intent.


Ray Strickland June 28,2010

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