Do you remember the drive on that night?

Do you remember the drive on that night?

I asked if you had any music, but

your barely breathing car spoke only in cassette tapes

and so we settled

with the grooves of tyres over asphalt

with the juvenile smell of our day-old PE shirts

with rows of lamp posts like faint candles in the streets

we settled

with memories of our conversation about school crushes.

I’m alone on that quiet stretch of road today

hitting pause on a Julien Baker song

rolling down the windows

listening, settling in.