Handfuls of Dust

If Only You

I look at the image of you refracted

in the many raindrops on the car window.

I look at the stars in your eyes detracted

by the pollution from the streetlights' glow.

If only you knew what I know

of you now.

You drift to sleep in the driver's seat,

holding your drink with shaky dignity.

While the wheels screech on the concrete,

you flirt with promiscuous infinity.

If only you saw how I see

you right now.

I look at the image of you illuminated

by the blinding headlights on the road ahead.

I look at you ignore that you're wasted

and place your foot on the accelerator instead.

If only you could retread

your steps now.

Maybe you could change somehow.