lonely stretch of highway
Megan Feehley
Megan Feehley is a writer from San Diego, California. She is an MFA student at San Diego State University and has work in Anti-Heroin Chic, Spare Parts Literary Magazine, Livina Press, and Tiny Molecules. She can be found on Twitter/X at @sadhouseghost or on Instagram at @mfeehls.
they say she stalks the white lines
drifting along the moonlit road
I pull over before she can lift a thumb
the heat is on, the music low
she stares, pale and empty
before swinging open the door
her skin is wet and gray, and
the dress clings to static breasts
she will not speak, so I
tell her about the heart rate of hummingbirds
and the ways to age trees, how
tonight, we can see Jupiter
and my mother’s key lime recipe
I do not speak of cold steel or undertows
of bells or sacred vows
she does not speak, but picks
the blood from beneath blue nails
and when grief stills my mouth
I think I hear her sigh