Down the Road

An old prose-poem I wrote and read in 2015

She went down the road to see where it ends and found herself so caught in its bends that everything would blend together until the sights meant nothing on this trip to slip the tether she was certain must be there.

Shabby boulevards would greet her use as she refused to catch their cues, staring off into the sky because the heavens held something that would dry her gleaming eyes the way the ride once did.

Bound for sharper sensations, an arousing vibration, and a passion unsated, she made her way down the street where the actors awaited the soon-to-be faded memories.

She slipped free from her invisible straps, thinking back on times elapsed, she realized that it had been years since she set out to see afar from vantage points where Darkness dwelt to keep the stars all to himself.