union horses on the interstate

behind hood and dashboard

his mind with hers

still rested in the ninth house,

blacktop travelling at interstate speed,

control firm,

music loud not slight,

with a long sigh pressed her head against

him,

often as companions traveled

now had a quest,

possessions as much as they where

poured into the trunk to be sorted on

arrival,

unwind as you will from society,

be bold in the colors

your heart has started to wear,

those who are skeptical

will not understand,

that beyond that frontal lobe threshold

lies a dense form

filled with thought and the saturate

of free will,

no alexander sword could cut

the feeling

each blow opposed,

red paint reflects those horses and riders

galloping along side with defined stride,

the future lies in the echoes

of the smile