COLORADO

we hit it where the 5 melts into the 210,
weaving past cars like streaks of oil
silver, gleam, white bounces
chrome glints off streetlights,
yellow lines flicker and slide away.

we slow to the residential streets again,
you rest your glove on my knee
and your lips to my collar. stoplight, go.
60 to 30, to neutral, back to drive

the city lights blur into circles and lines
we decelerate and move in closer.

This poem is included in The Sophomore Year Experience poetry compilation.

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About Amy

Amy is a freelance writer and artist based in LA. Her hobbies include romanticizing her world, having too many moody thoughts, and wandering through neighborhoods she's never been in.
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