"On car rides" by Rebecca Herrera


if only i could get in my toyota before the moon dims

the radio on silver springs and warm ways

our voices overlap the words like a ritual

and i miss my exit

you remember those times we drove to the south shore?

the sea flushed lavender and the sun

tinted the sky like a mai tai

saltwater curling my hair like love

do you still have that same chevrolet?

with the sunroof and wooden panel on the side?

i named my new car daisy after an air freshener

i bought in an autozone, or after the great gatsby

there are no memories of you in my new car

no memories of stars on a pitch-black skyline

admiring hoboken across the river

no memories on 59th in front of the van goghs

my gas tank is almost empty

a clean slate


Rebecca Herrera is an artsy, strawberry-haired kid born and raised in New York. They graduated from the Fashion Institute of Technology with a degree in Art History. She has had work featured in The Aurora Journal, Hecate Magazine, Stuck in Notes, and more. She currently lives in an apartment with her two plants, Orpheus and Eurydice.

Instagram: strawberry.img

Twitter: strawburrymoon

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