my headlights show puddles
the inside of my car slowly falling apart
my right hand gripped above your left knee
strongest with the thumb and pointer and less hard with the rest
your left hand squeezes ungently at the nape of my neck
urgent and possessive feeling
I do not check my phone
we sit down in bar stools
I opened the door for you because you thought it was locked
the long wooden bar was very worn and tilted in such a way that it appeared incapable of holding drinks
drinks were set down on it nonetheless
you're always talking about how happy you feel
I am always talking about how busy I feel
on the street you kiss glass and suggest I do the same, right next to yours
ptsd spit in hand, of come dripping, an overcrowded shower in the middle of the night
we compliment each other's lip marks and get back into the car, begin to sing
I play you my favorite song, and did want so badly to believe
you play me your favorite song and you know I have a heavy heart and kiss me anyway
I did not know how else to apologize but to fuck you
so I didn't
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