Another Bad Driver

the green light that shines from your dock
is no more real than Daisy’s
and I am Zelda
stretching forth my arms into nothingness

night is never tender
swaddled in the shroud of misbegotten love
and I am Nicole
hiding in the shade of your departure

in the cold I long
for the crinkled ache of
sun
on my shoulders
for the salted scratch of
sand
at my feet

those too are gone
the entombed dreams of a girl
trapped in the body of a not so certain
age

© s rogers 25 feb 2009

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