Many a mile has been travelled, as the sun sets on the blistering sands of our mind’s desert wasteland, which was once the fruitful valleys of our youth’s emotional dream time, 1000 kilometres ago.
Many a mile has been travelled. My brain is now half dead. And still the road stretches out in front, caught in the headlights high beam glow.
We played in each other’s smiles, for a while, we played I-Spy to pass the time, loaded up on roadhouse snacks, but alas, that was a millennia ago.
Are we there yet? He says as his enthusiasm goes.
We’re all set in for the duration,1000 kilometres, or so.
And still the road is swallowed under the front of the car, and still it just keeps coming, mile by mile.
The seats get hard to take, and we squirm about trying to make the pillows, and the blankets, and the dark, less numbing.
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