Off the highway
: It was noon
: How far did you go?
: It was way off the highway, behind the hills.
It was way off the highway, behind the hills, behind the train tracks, behind the wind mill, through the desert shrubs, behind the blue house with the broken fence, and behind the fallen tree that smelled like a sleepless night, yearning and morning dew. Behind the night, behind all her love and all my flaws, and that small wall that meant so much. Behind her lies, through the river and behind hope. Behind the most wretched day, behind her promises and behind the weeping willow. Behind every time I fell, behind the wild fires and every time you called. Behind the winter and behind the tears, behind that time I didn’t say that you were great. Behind my dirty clothes from yesterday. Behind this curve in your lower back and the blood rush to my head. Behind Dawn. Behind the Airstream. Behind the divine and faith and behind that day we laid on the cold tiles or maybe it was wooden floor. Behind them. Behind my morning reflection in your mirror. Through the rain and behind every time I would die for you. Behind every time I wanted to call and I didn’t. Behind that day you looked like a whole burning summer and it killed me. Behind the palm of your hand, way off the highway. Under your breath and beyond the hills, I can still feel the taste off the back of my throat.