©2021 Michael Raven
these lonesome highways trailing under head-beams into the forward night hand and a hand in a hand we held holding onto anything we can moonlight silhouettes the treeline that ghost-flicker shuffles periphery you don't know me but the wish it were was there your hair, black in the night you face aglow in the dashboard light unaware of the stranger at your side admiring the crooked smile you never show it would break your sad to know it was painted on your kiss and so, the drive the drive the drive hand and a hand in a hand disguised waiting for something to happen on that lonesome highway
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