Driving

We used to go for drives in his car.
Driving for the sake of driving.
Just me, him, and music.
Miles and miles of full circles
leading us back to the start.

I remember the electricity of his hand on my leg.
The shiver of my arm slipped through his.
Nervous, comfortable, impatient.
Neon arrows guided us.
While sinking suns warmed our windows.
Words were sparse.
I was learning about his silence.

These days his car is my car.
We've traded speed for safety.
These days we have two precious passengers.
But sometimes, when it's dark inside,
too dark to see their sleeping, silent, shapes.
Sometimes, I look at the side of his face,
quiet, intense,
and we're us again.
Just me, him, and music.