Hybrid

I can still smell the inside of your car if I close my eyes tight enough. Lock the rest of my senses up and time travel to the front seats of your black sedan parked halfway up the hill. We stayed fastened even with the car in park. Or rather I stayed fastened I’m not sure I remember you correctly. It’s difficult to distinguish ‘on’ versus ‘off’ in cars like those don’t you think? Close to silent on the outside, everything lit up on the inside. Feels like a metaphor for something I think I just made it about me again. Belt and buckle against skin do you think that was my subconscious effort to stay safe? A weak attempt at protection in retrospect. From you and all of the possible variations. The ones before and the ones that would follow. Isn’t that how it works? People as permutations. Like that song I’ve been playing on loop. Maybe there’s such a thing as too much of something you tell me. The part when she asks if we’re here just once or a billion times. You have to pay attention. Ears eyes open plus anything else you can spare. Be careful with your other parts you didn’t hear it here first though. Are we more likely to let go if we see someone else loosen their grip? Unclick to unclick. You have to hold the red button down long enough to feel the release.