The Sound the Door Makes When It Clicks Shut

The light turned green at 2:04, which meant
it was probably 1:59 because
the clock was always a little bit fast;
I left the left-hand turn lane.

I adjust the rearview mirror
left left left, then right.
The tires have been replaced
twice
as has the battery and the radio
and the seat is etched permanently, perfectly into place.

Down Woodward, then International Parkway, then Lemont Rd.
Signs blur.
I go
40
45
50
52
The warm leather interior withers and glides against my thighs
as the yellow lane lines border the I&M canal.

Heat crawls under my skin: foreground.
My hometown skyline glows in the moon: background.

I can no longer remember the friction in your jeans in the backseat of my minivan or the fog on the windows when we forgot to fall out of love.
But
I do remember the sound the door made as you exited the blue 2003 Odyssey when you forgot to watch me drive away.

– The Owner of a 2003 Light Blue Honda Odyssey

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