I am on this path to find something lost to me, something I never owned. The long dusty roads, the people, the noise, sleeping sitting up, or in unfamiliar rooms the moonlight pressing down on us. We go sunward to stop the clock from unwinding, to shelter the world from the sky. My long bones cramping, hair blowing, the hum of the engine, the throb of blood in my temple, I want something I cannot break. This was not my itinerary, I didn’t write the guest list nor draw the maps. A cup of tea, The smell of fresh newsprint, The silence sitting around me Like faithful attendants, the moon, light as a flower petal drifting in the sky. But we are still traveling, no more than a one-night stay anywhere and trust no one there are always shadows behind us and every beautiful face has cruel eyes, especially the mirror. I am too weary to protect anyone. Time has begun to turn back on itself, sometimes I look down at m