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Me and N, hitting the highway. Off for four days. Maybe five. Exploring the Scottish highlands with her mad driving skills behind the wheel and my dirty feet on her dashboard (she doesn’t know that part yet).

I’ve got my coat for the rain, my Skin so Soft for the midgies, my eyes wide open for the views and my ears wide open for N’s pearls of wisdom and her gorgeous words. And, of course, my mouth open for whatever goodies we find along the way.

I may never come back…

Kiss kiss bang bang, s.

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Primitive Road, by Lucas Howell

Say you love the albums with the smoky riffs
and downbeat rhythms. Here, they beg, fall in with us.
Forget that book, have a whiskey . . . have another.

~From Primitive Road, by Lucas Howell (read the entire poem here)

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