US 101

The sparkling cesspool of humanity
What we call the view from speeding highways
The space between places
Where the rending, healing, growing comes


Gauged in your glowing speedometer
A celadon sea, a deep tooth ache
My love, don't think so hard, just find
Your way home by the coursing artery compass


That you feel beneath my skin
Calling us, like the warmth of our child's imagined smile
We're raw, spilled out, then curled together
Sheltered from every novel ending, every tragic ending


Now, pleasure in the knowledge of choosing
To let meaning escape, secret nuances 
Become lost in the ether of space, instead
Les Feux D'Artifice T'Appellent


I wrote this on 11/01/11 {photo, via Parker}