I-270.

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Driving down this goldenly scenic road we stare into the sun as thoughts spill from our ears but not our mouths. Fingers glued to a black steering wheel, both hands locked, as if releasing one hand would require everything within you. We spent the weekend together, we loved and let be and I capture you in this moment because it is rare. Having you here, frozen in this moment, without the world pulling you here and there and I’m smitten. I’m smitten with the rawness of you, the fact that I explored you in such depth and I’ve never felt so connected to anyone in my life. I can no longer even hear the radio because my mind stops, and for me time stops, and for me I’ve never been anywhere else but here, in this car. I snatch your hand from the wheel, and I entangle it within mine and you let out the deepest breath. Taking your hand was all it takes to release the universe from your shoulders, and if I could do it every second of the day I would. I would do anything to ply your grip from the reigns and pull you into my parallel universe.

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