[Hard Drives.]

Taking the back seat
Plastic over leather, synthetic
Resting head
Beeps & roars, muffled
and in signal lights, I sink.

Hard arms, wide shoulders
Living in the atmosphere
of your body’s heat
Cold by my fingertips
as the engines weep

Moving, as we hold still
Shadows, trees, street lamps
Silent, breathing
While the film keeps talking
in this scene, I take heed

Mornings in cold hues
behind frosted glass, you are
Calm, consoling
Running past nature under dew
Nobody knows where we’re going

Nobody.