About Me
It would be comforting to know something
about her that would annoy you: she laughs
like a hyena or likes a kind of music that you hate.
But the truth is that she's nice and so are you,
and as you drive away from the small light
of the restaurant on the highway in another state
you think it's too bad you'll never know each other,
and you look at yourself in the rearview mirror,
your face lighted dimly by the dashboard,
and smile because she smiled at you.
You kick it out a little, thumbs tapping,
to the sweet song on the radio, to which,
you have no way of knowing,
she's dancing as she closes up.
