City lights graced interstates
The way you move your hands
through your hair when you feel alone
Remember the flowers you picked when we crossed over Madison?

You were so sure you found yourself that you branded it into an oak
The one you swore reached through the sky and swallowed the city line
You had yet to hit twenty-three (an age that would swallow you)

Then, every breath made you confess
You did not know what to do with your hands
This is a new side of you, so full of fear