Deaf by the sound of the highway, and blind from the dust of the road,
I ride alone…The radio spilling its familiar ballad, and window definitely not closed.
The horizon begins to shift from the joy of day to the poetry of night,
And as I degrees my speed, I begin to realize that for once, I’m perfectly fine.
My usual apathetic gaze turns to an ironic smile that I choose to hold in place.
My arm relaxes as the wind rips the muscles from their masses.
The picture perfect sunset, suffers in comparison to your picture perfect moments.
As the fields of gold fall to slumber, they turn into a deep purple as an act to “remember.”
My drunken senses are struck awake by the sound of your breathing,
And even though you haven’t slept but an hour, or may not even be sleeping.
I’m missing you more than I have ever missed the sun on a stolen day,
More than I missed the sound of thunder filling my dreams during a race.
My usual pensive image turns to an all too fitting advantage.
Your never ending heaven contends with the never ending heavens.
The music changes to a song that an hour before, I would have prolonged.
And my gaze rest on the tireless path, and my heart on your content, despite the facts.