It’s the car crash.
The inevitable sudden lapse in judgement where the gears are too tight,
the brakes no longer work from neglect,
his head looking the wrong way when Im right here.
It’s the slow drips of ice cream down our fingers that keep us distracted
for that split second
right before the air bags propel from the front dash board.
One of us crawling out from under the wreckage.
The other so focused on their own breathing
they cannot feel
the steering wheel piercing through their abdomen.