Meet You at the Moon


I left sooner this time (to reach you).
There was fog, late morning,
Hovering on the shoulder of the highway,
Scattering swiftly as I drove through,
Whispering, "For once, let's be guiltless."

I left sooner this time (to leave you).
There was the moon, late evening,
Hanging over the back of my shoulder.
Jet black pavement and pitch dark,
I thought I might have driven into outer space.

Maybe next time, I'll meet you at the moon.

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