Driving home dramatically

I drove away imagining
her house disappearing
over my shoulder
in the rear windscreen,
above and between me
and the passenger seat.
A low red sun
setting on the horizon.
The scene was ten feet tall
on a cinema screen
, I was much better looking
than I actually am
and I cried.
Tears rolling down
my chiselled,
anguished expression.
If that had all been so
I’d be winning an Oscar
by early March.
If there had been tears
they’d have been real.

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