The dawn wraps the asphalt in gold
190 kph on an empty motorway
Inebriated by light and speed
Bearing south, bearing nowhere

Again waking up in someone’s bed
Once more longing for someone else
No pain attenuated, merely physical lies
Driving south, driving into the emptiness

Exhausted by unending copulation
Exasperated by even longer faking
Generous in sex, parsimonious in feelings
Going south, going down

The ocean of asphalt tastes of salt
Tears provide a fantastic scintillation
Wishing this psychedelic road would never end
Rushing south, rushing to the darkness

Fate is hiding in the north
As ever, fate fears the future
But fate is afraid of itself
Moving south, moving…?
 

M.Daedalus