Jane and Time

We drive on into our secret spots.
The roads and ways to kill time before class,
endless loops, endless paths.
You reach into the compartment in the car,
we hit a pipe, the burn of the jane hitting
my throat is a constant sensation.
Waves of feeling and sound washing over me,
endless waves, endless time.
With every mile ticking silently on the odometer,
we talk more and more, getting closer to each other's souls.
I feel comfortable.
Comfortable in the car, and comfortable in your presence.
Endless trust, Endless understanding.
We drive back to your house and go straight to your room.
I expect the usual gig guys try to pull.
But we lay, side by side in mutual understanding,
listening to the Beatles tell me about my thoughts.
Endless music, endless understanding.
We rest up and head back, grab a drink and a snack,
part our separate ways and head to class.
Endless routine, endless time.
But I know two days from now, Ill be back in that car
with him, and we'll go on our roads and talk our talks,
muddled by the marijuana smoke and inhibitions.
Dreaming up our dream worlds of
Endless marijuana, endless gas.