its four in the morning.
you pick me up in your car
and i ask you where we’re going.
you say you don’t know.
the streetlights brighten your face,
i forgot how you looked in the daylight.
yesterday i forgot how your voice sounded,
i called you, just so i could remember.
maybe i will not be here tomorrow,
or maybe i’ll just sleep
i say as the light hits your cheekbones,
you clutch on the steering wheel
and reply
the way your voice sounds when you're about to cry-
is still one of my favorite things