I miss caressing your face like a steering wheel-like a life line-
Like a slight twitch of my hand too far right or left would send us spiraling over the edge of painted yellow lines.

The baggage of past loves always lingered around us like the smell of cigarettes caught in my car air conditioner from my ex-boyfriend's third breakdown and sticky cup holders in your truck from a spilled chocolate shake that reminds you of your previous girlfriend's first date.

I miss the racing hearts, pushing the gas so the car would fly over the speed limit. The way your hand always reached over the console for my hand, or my thigh, or my knee. Through all the risks, I miss the way you loved me.