Dusk covers the interstate
Beyond the plate glass window
Semi-trailer trucks accelerate and roar
Driving over daylight savings time
The distant sound of comfort
I remember. Engines fade
On the stairway, turning keys
Amber scents and shadows
Lost touch, tracing soft and supple
To my left and to my right
The dark that comes from light
In the years that still define
Flash forward, closing time,
Fingernails red, long, clicking quietly
A young woman flips through vinyl
Small black purse strapped across her chest
Proud and brilliantly alone.
I wonder who she listens to for comfort
In the dark, underneath her arm
She holds Boys and Girls in cellophane wrap
Slave to love, scratches drawn across the back
Searching or forgetting. My heart bends
As if left in the sun to melt
