In the spring,
you told me
you loved the smell
of gasoline
as we spent two hours
walking through the city
talking about
whatever came to mind
In the summer,
you told me
you wanted to drive
with me
for a few hours
until we reached the lake
where all of your dreams
seem to come true
In the fall,
you told me
you couldn't drive
to see me
because for the last five hours
your blood had been slowly
turning into alcohol
but you did it anyway
In the winter,
you told me
to hold my tongue
and my tears
for half an hour
as my mind, heart, and car raced
until I didn't know which one
would crash first
Word: Drive
