flashing beams, metal against metal
swirling lights outside a spinning car.
the center divider, the concrete wall, and twenty other cars
all want to be my destiny.
they flirt with us. we scream.
she sobs, "is it over?"
"yes," i say.
the golden offender whizzes by
and flips us off.

"such hatred," she cries, "such stupidity."
"we could have been killed," i cry in return.
but really, i am numb.


bronnie

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