It's bumper to bumper again. Pairs of small rectangular lights weave around each other. Stopping and starting. Stopping and starting. Their color blurs into streams of red. Red, red, red.
In the absence of anything else, last night comes back to me. Could you, I thought?
I know the absence of affection over long periods of time makes people act in strange ways, but could you?
You'd feel her frame resting on yours
instead of mine
Wouldn't you notice the difference?
Could you let her run all over you?
There'd be hair on the pillow, found days later
Clips or hair binders, maybe, between the sheets
It'd be longer before you found those
You'd be able to smell her for days.
Could you breathe her in?
Could you be breathed?
Could you leave her all over you?
And in the air?
You say, people are different when they are starved for affection.
We're silent. Shadows fall on your face. I can see you're thinking. I let my mind wander.
Could I?
Could I press my face into the small of his back?
His wiskers would burn my softest skin
I'd feel it the next day
Could I let myself run all over him?
Would I leave some of myself there?
Would I mind if he took some of me?
When I came back, would I miss it?
I catch you reading me. I wonder how much you caught. You change your mind.
I realize I'm home. I can't remember the last part of the drive. I did remember taking a different route, though. Who knows if it's faster, now.
The pairs of lights are dark now. Maroon.
You always talk big, I thought.
