City Limits (after Cursing) by David Anson Lee

"Desert Road" © M.E.S.

At the edge:

where asphalt loosens

and the road exhales,

you feel it:

that hush beneath the engine,

a pause no sign explains.

City limits

aren’t lines on a map

but agreements:

between who you were

and what you can no longer carry.

The air tastes of unsaid goodbyes,

of headlights cutting open dusk,

of that held beat

before a chorus lifts

and leaves you standing in it.

The rearview keeps rehearsing

old versions of you:

streetlights still warm,

names you almost answer to,

windows glowing like they expect your return.

Leaving isn’t loud.

It’s the quiet decision

to stop circling:

to let the city keep its echo

while you take the ache forward.

City limits:

not a wall,

not escape,

but the moment the road asks

what you’re willing

to become lighter than.

ABOUT:

David Anson Lee is a poet whose work explores thresholds, movement, and the emotional geography of change. Their poems have appeared in numerous literary journals and online magazines. They are interested in how music, memory, and place shape identity and belonging.

POET'S SONG SELECTION:

City Limits - Cursing