I shatter my eardrums to love songs you showed me
months ago with melodies that echo
like your sleepy sunday morning voice
and lyrics that sound like a letter I could’ve
written you in my sleep.
For hours I’m highway humming,
truck trailer tracking,
streetlight staring –
I trace the constellations in the sky with my eyes
until I find replicas of the chocolate freckles
that scatter your shoulder blades,
the moon lays in the sky like your hands on my waist:
soft and calm and orbiting.
I watch the hills rolls and the sounds fade:
muffled farmland to city lights,
pale yellow hills turn to emerald mountains
the color of your eyes in the dark.