How They Will Only Ever Miss the Music

 it is- on days like this

when me and the sienna moon

talk

and my windows are rolled down

despite the smoke

because I can't breathe anyways

and the boy in front of me 

rides slow 

so he can listen to my music 

and I pull behind him 

and he turns and waves

from his bike 

I do not know him 

but I like the interval 

of his motor and the power lines 

that play in odd industrial harmony 

while I cry a little bit 

I think every stranger 

I meet 

is the one 

even though I'd much rather be alone 

which is why I pretend to stare at the truck insurance sign 

when at the next light 

he pulls right up next to me 

and I leave my window down 

because I like the feeling 

of a potential

but I hate the idea of a commitment 

and I am caught in limbo 

between a red light 

and the impending green one 

unsure which to hope for 

but when the color changes

relief translates to speed 

and I move

fast into the sky 

that makes it feel like its always six o'clock

and me and the sienna moon

talk about 

how they will only ever miss the music.