pacific coast highway

pch abducted us most nights, luring us in with its pledge of comforting oblivion. the salt water lent us its hand, promising to cradle us until the morning. i would rest my head on the glass and my thoughts would glide along the waves. my hand dangled out the open car-window- hanging lifelessly at the end of my friendship bracelet-covered wrist. wisps of my hair thrashed against the car door, trapping the salt water air and our secrets within its tangled depths. words were rarely spoken; we stared out the windows and silently projected what we thought our futures would look like onto the passing car’s shadows. sometimes hands were held and other times the ripped leather seats held us, cushioning our bruised dreams. the radio’s melodies engulfed us- providing our nights with a soundtrack in which we lost ourselves. our hearts spun as the tires pounded against the wrinkled cement.

and in those moments, we felt infinite.

Molly