Still

64

Just when you think you know the colour of the sky, you see the way it talks

to the mountain and now there are more shades of grey and blue in the windshield than stones

in the sea. And you realize you know nothing and that knowing is nothing,

that naming the colours is good craft, but futile because you can’t even say

what you feel. And you can touch the gear shift, but not her leg, so you look at the colours,

say Wow! Look at that! Isn’t that something else? And she tries to name the colours too

and does much better than you. But because you aren’t listening as hard as you are breathing

you won’t remember what she said, but you will still see the colours and you will still feel

your hand that is not on her leg.