One day I’ll walk through the door
and it will slam shut
behind me, propelling me
out onto endless
highways and neon lights.
I’ll melt into a night so deep I’ll only be a wisp
of a memory,
joining frequencies beyond voice:
of blood flowing through unrestricted veins,
of open lungs,
exclamation marks popping
from outstretched fingers.
Before will be behind me, muffled into silence
I will be lunging forward,
white noise running in clean, dark air.