Where i Lose Me

light 

they say 

comes at the end.

naturally I resist

endings. quirky

that will

inserting itself on the edge 

of gyrating cigarette swirls.

death. death. death

intoxicating. patterns

like strippers

who wouldn’t even fuck you that way

no matter how much money you have.

light is the Fort Pitt tunnel

the end. 

urban to country

or vice versa. 

cunt and trees

wide open for

a minivan

pounding

freedom. 

sighing 

together.

making new.