One: she turns, lights blooming
in her periphery, in the whites of my eyes,
two: the impact of red,
a pickup truck we had not seen,
bone-rattling, smashing
through front end and windshield
like an angry fist,
three: finally still, turned
upside down toward black
night sky, pressed between seat
and air bag like hands, praying
to be anything but human.
in her periphery, in the whites of my eyes,
two: the impact of red,
a pickup truck we had not seen,
bone-rattling, smashing
through front end and windshield
like an angry fist,
three: finally still, turned
upside down toward black
night sky, pressed between seat
and air bag like hands, praying
to be anything but human.