By the time you get this message. I will be behind the wheel. Watching dotted yellow hexagrams stretch into the dark. Left hand surfing on iced tinged winds. Chewing up a cardboard box. Singing at lung top. One stop left ’til I meet you in the concourse. St. Louie encore. Do we have a shot?. Caught. No dwelling on the thought. Of what the hell we haven’t got. So I’m headed from the dot to the spot. Where your plane touches down. For a six hour layover. Don’t say a word. I found it on the map. Calculated it. Just a half a day to get from where you’re not to where you will be. My hair is filthy. I’m drinking coffee. I can barely feel the trace. From the only time you kissed me on the face. Question mark space. I know you’re with me underneath the starscape. Treadmill pick up our pace. Headstart on a jet in a car chase. Is this the part where my heart breaks. One asleep one awake. Back to back ‘cause you wouldn’t turn towards me. Had me battling fractals keeping track of all the chords we created. Sound clash of swords. Back and forth. Couldn’t poke through the sash. Slash through the plasterboard. You packing your passport. Me on a crash course to show you that I have the passion that you asked for. Flooring the gas trying a fast forward fifteen months. I’ll see you once the sun shines through the glass above the dashboard. The stars I see aren’t even there. It’s only light in the air. By the time you get this message I’ll be either on my second flight. Or already all the way to my destination. Ridiculous that I could honestly expect you waiting at the gate when I arrive. A sixteen hour drive. I’ve been feeling so silly going on now several months. As our obsession runs together. And whoever comes to have you I’ll be jealous of. And when above all else you put her I’ll know what it was to feel so needed. Sorta wish that I was more of a romantic and could give you back the utmost. But I’ve never seen it up close. From everything that I can tell there are several possibilities. Maybe we‘re in love really. Maybe it’s too early to really see. Maybe we’re just searching for something to hold onto amidst confusion and fragility. Maybe we’ve lost all sensibility. Will it be come our Splendor in the Grass. When the facts have asserted themselves. And the memories pass into poetry and words that retell. What only then can we be sure that we felt. Guess I prefer to be unhappy. Or weren’t you looking at me when my back became a wall. Searched for your reflection saw exactly what you saw. Two kinds of different skin. Two minds exist within. Trying to just transcend all space and time. And lift their chin and find some sense of purpose. Some sense of hope. Press my cheek against the window surface. We’ve been afloat. But now I’m nervous. Has this been a joke?. We’re landing and it’s time to close the envelope. Maybe I’ll see you at the finish line