When Hot Roads Shimmer

When the once hot roads shimmer
with icy fingers, little hands of mortality
daring us to push a little further
against the brick wall,
and as the ice melts away and blue bonnets
burst from the highway,
I remember long cold winters back home,
when the snow blanketed my eyes and
icicles burrowed deep into my chest,
and I drive a little slower, more warily, I
still try to push as hard as I can against that wall,
because here it is warm all year round
and the breeze always brings essential oils and you.

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