After Dinner

I've been watching you for hours. It's been years since we were born. We were perfect when we started. I've been wondering where we've gone.
                                                                              --Counting Crows



The rain is cold and plants
itself on the windshield, spreading
blisters of water across the
glass. In the dark the interstate
sprawls ahead lit by streaking lamps
at intervals along the pavement.
I say I am happy. And he smiles,
a silhouette of sadness in the
way his lips imperceptibly part. There
in that space is an expanse of time
before this rain, of silence and strain
against dreams falling like stricken
stars, of hands almost touching, and
fingers wrapped around loneliness.
I say, I like talking to you. He nods.
The rain throws pellets
harder at the earth. I turn my
attention to the radio.