in the seats of these cars, were these the precious moments that we'd soon reminsce about somewhere in the future that we'd soon gravitate towards, the lurch forward on green lights before we're back in our rooms, white walls and muffled sounds of tv that seeped into somewhere in our memories, so half forgotten. palm trees leaned in a breeze, one of the kinds that made the hot days feel a bit bearable. maybe i thought it was like that when i talked to you over the phone. all those things that you knew about that i could see at the backseats of a car or glimpse just outside this house, yes, this house that we were fortunate to be in somehow even if nothing happened in it and we just had to make it to the next day. somehow, i would always startle that solemn quiet. maybe i'd just cause trouble. although maybe waiting for you to come back every year, you'd come from that world outside of the house and i'd learn a bit of that silence of yours too that wasn't so much that we had nothing to say, but that we said it already somehow and maybe we can start moving forward then.

silver
chryslers