late at night
phantom drives home
taking roads so well worn and known
I pretend it’s the second coming
that I’m the only one left

I let the pain of you finally leaving
compress my body into small boxes and
deafaning silences and
close my eyes and let go of the wheel

every night carries its own epiphany,
locked starshut winkwise and waiting.
and if hell is a strip mall
i would trace your outline
in salt in the food court forever,

never really getting the lips right.