Long Drives

I know that one day
You’ll be gone.
But I sit behind you here while you sleep,
Entranced by your gentle snoring
The hum of the car’s engine

The occasional passerby on the nearly deserted road.

One day you’ll be gone,
And I’ll miss your anger
When I wouldn’t wake up.
Dusk and dawn,
Two ends of the same blanket
In which I wrapped myself
To hide from the day.

One day you’ll be gone,
And I’ll miss your smile,
The gaps between your teeth,
The crust at each end of your lips
As you bathe me in your light.

One day you’ll be gone,
And I’ll miss your laugh,

The one you make when you find something S said funny,
And the one you make when you laugh alone at a bad joke.

One day you’ll be gone,
And I’ll miss your shadow.
I’ll miss your frame.
I would shatter myself
If it meant I could fit in it
Just one last time
Before you go.

One day you’ll be gone,
And I’ll be grown.
I’ll miss your imperfections
In the acne scars on your face
In the stories through the creases by your eyes,
And the stretch marks on your stomach
From when you had me and my brother.

I’ll wish just another time for you

To hold me still
Or wipe my tears
Or kiss me softly on the side of my mouth.

Bathe me in your light

For I grow where there is warmth.

I know that one day you’ll be gone,
And I’ll try to switch the light back on,
But when you go,
You’ll have taken the Sun with you.