Kerouac dreams

Kerouac dreams

to live on the road,

the road to become home.

people are wine;

souls to be drunk

his eyes are music

blessing my skin.

I’ve learned not how to love,

but what to love:

the rush of wheels,

red kisses,

velvet night,

spinning stars.

I’ve learned emptiness;

cold lovers and lonely ground.

Sometimes my own back turns

on old childish convictions

and I swirl away from the wind,

my soul,

the night.

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