Zip It

She is smug, but smiles
a little as she unzips
her own jeans in
the front seat of
my `94 Honda Accord.
I`m not as drunk as I`d
like, so I turn up the music
to distract myself.
This doesn`t work.
I`ve been in this situation
before, only in someone else`s
car, and I was the one doing
the unzipping.
But now I`m older, poorer,
and have darker hair.
She puts her hand on my leg,
and I feel young again.
Somehow I`d forgotten
that awkward moment
just before two strangers
pretend to know each other.
But a smile breaks the silence
on my face because it feels
like the first time, and in
that moment, I realize that`s
really what I`m trying
to recreate.