A Hundred Miles

it hits me like she's
drowning in someone else's body
that her mind, has twenty years of
sunsets by the window and Las Vegas benders while
her lungs petition for eight months of exhales, just
can't stretch at that pace
no more
and her wide eyes know it

I have a friend who says she
likes to be done with a place before she
leaves it,
this is not that, it is
walking St Paul to Savannah and dying
a hundred miles to the gulf
what can we do now