Untitled
Mikael Reinhold Wester

Headlights, taillights
Shine like
Heaven and hell
Running parallel
A smiling cigarette
And a hundred miles to go
Rain makes street
Run black
I don't know when I'm coming back
(If ever)
Angels and devils
And an extraterrestrial
Staring in my window
Stops off about a mile or so
A motel
And an empty bottle of rum
Sleep to greet
The next hundred miles
The only thing I have of the truth
Is a liquored up vision
Of you
.