There have been lots of
moments
lately,
when he looks at her from
the corner of his eye as she
sits across from him in the passenger-
seat of his car, when a shaft of
sunlight is falling across her,
illuminating only half of
her face, and he
wonders
what are they doing
here,
what are we
doing
here,
and he knows that he should ask
her, she's never been afraid to speak her mind -
he learned that on their first date -
but then she rolls down the window
or changes the radio station, the dial flicking
a red beam flickers across static and that song he hates and
boring news broadcasts
and he remembers that there is no point in
saying what he is thinking, that they are already
wherever they are supposed to be.