thewaitingone

I made a face at it.
A tooth baring, snarl.
My heart punched my chest
from the inside.
I didn't stop.
I didn't slow.
I didn't tap the brake or clutch.
All this in a rush of passing exhaust, grass, and wind.
I flatter myself to think you waved.
Perhaps just to shoo a fly away from your shining face.
The sunglasses saved us both
from painful eyes.
I let gravity roll me back to the cradle
at the bottom of the hill.
I sat in the heated shade and remembered.
You used to bring me a cool drink.
Ask me "How is your day?"
You were lying to me even then, but
it was a nice, comforting lie.
The lie that We Were.
We Would Be.
The grass blows off the passing vortex
of another car.
Same smell.
Same heat and noise.
I need a new lie.