we pass a graveyard, and a field,
and you asked what happened.
I tell you,
we died.
we hit a deer and
we died.

you seem genuinely concerned,
and i feel bad,
but not enough to say anything else.

you say
well, since we’re dead,
why don’t we pull over
and you can both rape me in the field.

he asks if i’m comfortable
and it takes me a while
to realize he ignored what you said
and was talking about the temperature of the car.
i tell him i’m a little bit toasty,
and crack the window.
you mumble on about fucking us in the back seat,
but we ignore you
or at least we both pretend to.

we drive on
and you ask us if we’re there yet.
we pass two cops,
and we drop you off
by your front door.
i try to help you out,
you somehow regain soberness enough to walk to your bedroom.
your father opens the door for you
i panic,
we panic,
and leave,
and i am left to sit with my friend
sharing a cigar and
hoping that we did the right thing.