together

thru all the glue

filn history's glossy cracks

and all the pines

from wane to wax

we were(are, perhaps)

moonrise bent

lain with backs

pressed on tarmac

slid red, long

longer than we thought possible.

dream-licked heads

shattered and spread :

painted lines on painted lines

on

painted lines

down along this serpentine road.

without a motion ...

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