-

There are lights on the horizon and they rise like -
And the frosty golden haze hangs.
And bridges passing are back-lit by streetlights:
reflecting and refracting through low lying clouds,
clinging to the night like -
And you are so -
And taillights which make no pop as they go pop out of existence
go pop out of existence up ahead anyway
disappearing in the mist like -
And it's 6am
and it smells like cows
and it feels like home,
like home,
like I want to come back here,
like I don't want to leave...
like I enjoy lying to myself in the early morning,
when really, I know I have moves left to make,
but right now I am so -
I'm just so -



Written Washington 2011, Photo Virginia 2009