“Yes,” says the first boy
with his first steady breath,
a breath that tastes like
gasoline
and highway dust.
His lungs expand,
inhale undefined air
while yellow lines blur.
His voice is the rough gravel
of the road.
The other boy says, “no”
with every word
and turns his head away
from the dehydrated sky.
He doesn’t hear the radio,
only the crunch,
glass shattering, the flying
diamonds of the
collision
they’re speeding towards.
(Source: goldminegoldmine)
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