Juan Israel Espanol
The other side. One lane leading backwards toward
the window ahead. I’ll open it just enough if you –
promise not to shove me out. Even though I might
enjoy the rush of feeling close to some ending.
The freedom within the fall. It’s the crash I’d mind.
The mess of it and stiff neck. The swelling and swollen
eyes. Impacting, colliding, a plume of smoke, the belt
being yanked back tight – across our laps. Shattered
pieces of tinted glass screaming and showering across
our closed eyes and smiling faces. Followed by –
that bitter taste. The shock in understanding that yes
we have survived but not everyone else has. Bodies are
slumped over the dashboard, broken wheeled columns.
Bones and dislocated orgasms. Continue reading