The Passenger Seat

The light was red, the heater hummed a low

and steady note against the winter glass.

I watched the slush begin to melt and flow

and waited for the traffic light to pass.

A name flicked on the screen between us two,

a sudden pulse of light inside the dark.

I saw the blue glow settle into you

and leave a cold and predatory mark.

It stayed there in the center of your eye,

a ghost of someone else’s typed-out breath.

I didn't ask and you didn't offer why,

just sat there in that small, electronic death.