back toward that land of dirt and wind,
the highway blends beneath you
and you feel the heat rising up through the floorboards

tonight you will wear yesterday's clothes
and contemplate the age in your pores,
amplified and sick-looking under the flourescents,
while water swirls and sucks around you
and music pumps through your glands,
too loud to recognize

and you will try to focus through the smoke and movement
and remind youself again that this is not a book
or a movie
and the gravity of reality will settle upon you
as your blood turns sour and
yellow bones grind and dissolve beneath your skin

but now you feel lost and light and small on the road
and the wind whips through the windows like it will carry you away