Straight ’til sunrise

With the night falling behind us
we fly down dark highways,
air roaring through open windows
and filling our lungs with the smell
of soil and damp leaves.

The white lines in the middle of the road
make a loud fft as we run them down,
kamikaze moths dive-bombing the headlights
and bright eyes gleaming in the undergrowth.

We throw back our heads and howl
with the wind, riding the rumblestrip
straight ’til sunrise.


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