Tule
Fog
floating
beyond
the
windshield
just
below
tule
fog,
intruding
thoughts
race
into night
building
rapid breath
into
that old monster,
still
caged,
still
roaring.
This
bonfire burnt
behind
the speed of lights,
left
nothing
but
a silhouette
of
fingers gripping
a
dark wheel.
These
gathering mists
veil
empty space
where
pulse, gentle days,
life
still warm, spill
from
your tiny cuts.
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