After

In the morning,
she drove you home
in silence.
Halfway to your house,
the tire blew,
the car rattling to a jagged stop.
Fuck. Fuck.
She punched the horn, over and over,
and then screamed, her voice a thin cloth
straitjacketing you
back to yourself.
You flung open the door
and started walking
before she could tell you
to get out.

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