We take this ride in silence. Not a word, Not a cough, Not a single glance. I wonder why we go visit your mother When it only ever upsets you, And I know that for the next three days I will only hear five or six words from you. I wonder when this became us: Sharing everything from bathroom to bed, Yet as close to strangers as we could be. I wonder when you stopped smiling, And if I thought hard could I place a date. My mind runs back to the day I bought you that Lewis Carroll book. You had tears in your eyes, As you pressed the open pages to your chest But I had never see you smile brighter. I wonder why we never mention your father And why you feel you have to fight so hard For your mother's approval. I wonder what happened that night When you pushed me onto the bed And started drowning me in cigarette kisses. But the moment I placed my hands on your frail body You pushed me away, "I don't need your help, I can undress myself." I wonder what I did That turned you into a widow In a bride's body. I wonder if this Jericho between us Will ever shatter If we yell loud enough. And as we take this ride in silence, Your body turned away from me, Staring out the window, Your eyes slowly closing, I wonder how much longer we will last.