hovering thru utah

my telephone speaks snow flakes in my warm dry ear whispers rivulets of windshield water pasting mountains into moonshined horizons and laughs the way truck stop sleepers do on permanent coffee my telephone trickles stars thru my smiling headlights curving me around fog topped pines and road cramped campers floating your cold tires over my flannel sheets my t lep one;;;stu tt ers;;... a;. ..goodn ght... k..ss..;::::;::;;hel;; o?::;;:...... .. . . . .