Lift

Gold dust fades on a broken apology.
Lifting away from these dreams, burying the night.
Cut strings and porcelain.
Drifting away from such demons.
Escaping the snap of nightmares and reality.
Those wishes were heavy, pulling down my soul.
Lift into a neon blue, a heady place where dreams have died.
Part truth, part ghost.
Rosaries spin on the motor heart, forcing me upward.
Sky west and crooked.
Linking into the distance within your eyes.
My heart went out to you, threatening heaven.
Promising to belong, two steps out of this world.
Blurring into a memory and rolling down the windows.
Rolling into the arms of love.
Stuck somewhere in between.

Asleep at the wheel

Just 100 miles from Phoenix.
All dressed up in daisies.
Leaving the world and moon behind her.
She breathes heavily, fogging up the windows.
Blurring the shapes outside further.
She wants to kiss you on the mouth.
Leaving that stuff all over you.
Red wine perfume, and with ashtray eyes.
Not an ordinary morning, to find the ground slipping away.
Her suitcase soul surviving another close encounter.
Men from mars, more outsiders.
For they wanted to keep her, awake and within.
Matchstick moments of nostalgia.
Creeping into insomniatic bliss.
The daylight comes, but she turns aside.
A blink once of the wandering eye and closing Arizona forever.
Asleep at the wheel, yet coursing through her own desert.
Her foot heavy on the pedal.