It is always there
even on driving days when the sun is out,
a hand on the small of my back,
the slight shadow,
the slight weight on my shoulders,
even on driving days when the sun is out,
a hand on the small of my back,
the slight shadow,
the slight weight on my shoulders,
I think, will it ever leave?
Is the beauty I see,
more beautiful because of it?
I close my eyes,
reimagine moments,
to a soundtrack
a fever hovers,
I grip the steering wheel,
the light has turned green
I open my eyes,
indicate,
take the turn
around the
corner
