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"me and magdalena, always leaving early and sleeping late"
route 66 to california. i say follow the road signs, but you're content with getting lost. after that, you knighted me navigator in the backseat in texas, my hands on the leather and midnight steam on the windows.
we stop for ice cream outside of four corners. you bounce me on your knee, spill vanilla bean down my shirt and laugh. we take portable camera pictures. i'm in all four states at once, lying spread across the monument. you snap my photo.
we take a detour in the desert and spend the night at a motel. i watch johnny carson on the tv. you take the acoustic guitar and sing me an old country song. in the morning we eat breakfast in the diner and get back on the road.
one more ghost town before the coast. i jump out and pretend i'm a cowboy. we play high noon duel. the camera clicks.
in california, you drive straight to the edge: cliffs overlooking the sea. we change our clothes in the car and you grab my hand to walk with me all the way down. the sand's hot. your palms are warm and happy and habitual. i take a look behind me at the sun and look ahead at you. both blinding. goosebumps flare over my skin even in the heat.
