Lightning Takes the Form of Hope

On minute five of this thirteen-hour drive
(South Texas to Middle Tennessee)
my lover sends a photo of herself,
naked except for the bikini she’s now
packing for an unexpected weekend
away with her fiancé. There is nothing
I can do, or say, so I turn up the radio,
drown myself in climax of guitar to match
the boiling in my blood & white-knuckled grip
intense as any cocaine-fueled power trio.

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