The Expanse Tonight Is Poetic

Whirring down highways until prairies blur from earthly colors to heavenly eyes, I lean myself into the night. The back seat entreats me to trace the stars’ track, but I meet the vista with a faraway knack for the memory of fires. The firelight alighting on your tired black hair, the sparks dancing unaware on your forehead, the scorching red glow near my stomach’s plateau. You seemed to know. Your slow green words consumed crackling before fracturing my tried bones, until uniting we shone. The silent swashes find me wanting a home where your wafting tones fill the air softly.