The Catch

The engine idles, coughing out a haze,

the end of seven long and hollow days.

You didn't look at me, you didn't speak,

just watched the wipers drag across the streak.

Your thumb pressed down the button, faded pink,

and broke the only chain, the final link.

The metallic snap was sharp and deep and dry,

a sudden sound that didn't even try

to hide the way the air between us died.

The latch let go, and then you stepped outside.

The buckle dangled there, a heavy weight,

swinging slow against the plastic plate.