Highway flying ninety-
five, stallions in the sky.
Wings of an angel
took the wheel. Didn’t
ask what kind she was.
Dropped dialogue, Dionysus
watched the Stallion
fly his last race. Shotgun
rested at the mercy
of the gods touch.
He looked through me,
the lights carried his eyes.
They met me at the barrel
of the tree. Covered in life,
tears in my eyes,
if only they were mine.
