highways more beautiful

 

I always see the highways more beautiful, in my dreams
through my streams of tears, cold as ice

the lights of oncoming traffic glisten and freeze
into hypnotic streaks of halogen

downtown’s pollution silences the stars protests,
the concrete murmurs with pleasure [delight]

it smells consistent, like tires at 55 mph
and tastes gritty, like an unplanned road trip

I always see the highways more beautiful in my dreams
through my stream of tears, cold as ice


Elizabeth Mathers graduated with her BA from St. Catherine University. She spends her time agonizing over meal planning and loves taking long drives out of the city. She enjoys keeping 7 journals at once and avoids caffeine at all costs.