We are not dead yet(poetry): Plot twist and other magic tricks

43

The sky was my compass, I drove hundreds of roads before

But this time, it was different,

Staring in its zigzag formation, I ridden with

My sister, her crystal baby brown eyes, matched the color of her visible red cheeks

She looked on her window sill, almost doused to sleep,

The thick cotton ball blue clouds,

The long hyphenated gray dirty road,

The bumps of the journey towards west,

Stupefyingly, I was a loss of words about its beauty

I stole a glance at her, I remember back when we were once a family,

It reminds me of a story of how funny car chase

And cops showing would be

and secretly laughing with our fake I.D

And I felt smiling about it and I did,

And as I looked at the clouds,

It makes the fine holes in it a little clearer and

The sun rays outshined the spectrum a little brighter