enough: 7/20/06
& we’re driving past the marshes
that are the same colors as the earth
in a distanced view from space,
which is fitting because my body’s
here but my mind is away, so far away.

& all the windows are down so i can
feel the sticky air as it smacks my face
at seventy-five miles an hour & i can
taste the salt from the water on my
tongue but it’s not enough to know
that you can taste the same things that
i can now;

not enough to think & not truly believe
that it was the same air that tugged at
your hair & felt the contours of your
face beaded with soft sweat that curls
like smoke around my lips, leading me
off the high way & then back to you;

always, back to you.