Stars, 47 degrees @ 5:30; lights flashing
roll down the drive, two rights,
plunge down, 60 kph, shivering, pickup trucks, rocks
through the Springs; across traffic... wrong way!!!
then solitude, and warmth, maybe a fox!
oil patch, the barrio and dolphins??!!!

You came unexpectedly. Like a welcome guest of old days. You glided into my sixteen-year-old curiosity, which, at the time was a week shy of wounds two months deep. You remembered smells and tastes and ****** puns. You flicked cigarettes with the vibe of breaking hearts. You lifted weights with the vibe of protecting your sister from all that could ever go wrong. You drove like that too. With the engine pushing, accelerating to over 200 kph on empty highways with Halsey booming through my smart-*** comments; so smooth, it felt like jumping off a cliff. Unlike how I felt after you left. I was full to the brim. Buzzing with poetry and sultry words. Little did I know that you had a string of babies like me. Ones that blog their moods in metaphors and mostly they are all dedicated to you.

I remember they say something about summer rain.

my sleep paralysis demons
create a makeshift shadow
i often see with
my widely-open eyes:
your thumb rubbing against
the lines imprinted in my palm,
drizzling midnight footsteps
on calloused city pavements,
moist on my eyeglasses
from the fighting cold weather
and the warmth of
your gentle breathing,
synching feet in the trails
they take, humming birds
in the periphery of things,
regina caeli, tachycardia,
my acid reflux, 30 kph signs
then 20, yellow bell hanging
above my head, i love you,
i miss you—
or am I dreaming?