Distance

Simulacrum in flux
of blue birds perched to a tree,  
pistons running freely amongst
Colorado grey waves,  
lips nibbled by mischievious teeth
underneath the hitchhiker's prison.  
 
She's my arduous white line worth
the inhale, feet perched to the  
dashboard, discarded Modelo
longnecks tattooing the asphalt
near our axled home.  
 
We talked befores and afters in stills,  
redroomed presents still
developing, the similar landscapes
we walked days in and out  
drenched in bromothymol skyways  
of a southern comfort hope
 
until my lenses burned. Until,  
the photos smitten from flames
receded into themselves.  
 
How I wish to feel your teeth against mine
like I knew you.