The windshield is a mosaic in the downpour. Headlights as shooting stars, red and white smears against the dark. Stained glass living. Her heart barely wants me when I am whole, less still when I am in pieces. I’ve learned what it is to subtract something from nothing. Fractions and percentages of zero. Reserves spent, nothing left to give. Heartfelt apologies for the hectic pace of life. Soldier on. Stoic. Marvel at our capacity to eat nothing yet live. Subsist on silence, nurtured in the void. No time like the present, save that for which we say we will do tomorrow. Always tomorrow. Deadlines never met, stories left untold, pushed aside into the traffic of the day. I choke on the unsaid. Words tumble from my lips, they hang lifeless in the air.