We trade experiences
You driving down the street
Seeing two contrails making an X
And in its upper part a cloud
Catching the sun so brightly
A little rainbow throbs
Tucked in its thigh
Like an exposed nerve
A single pulsing nerve
Writ large in the sky
But no one's looking
No one seems to be listening
To its obvious prophecy
As you drive by
Making me forget
What I wanted to say
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