The car booms up some road that ends

exactly in sky and I think this is

the most beautiful thing

in America I am not used to feeling golden

But I think you are

Can you tell I’m terrified

The wind found in me a canyon Can you hear it

Wild to be always going To go and go nowhere

and well There is a difference between looking

and finding There is no way

to get from one place to another

without being in-between

I keep thinking to myself I’ll marry you

Then I think about someone else

touching me Waking feels like this too

Coming into a sudden

body Kneeling to the emptiness there