Radio

She turns down the radio to listen for the song in his heart. 
Its a tune she has heard one too many times, but the lately the rhythm has been changing patterns and it scares her half to death.


She doesn't dare turn to face him because she knows the minute their eyes click her soul will melt like butter running swiftly down her neck and trickle across the seams of her porcelain skin and make a huge sopping mess of everything. 


How can he look at her like that with no emotion in his eyes? Like the sight of her doesn't cause his heart to beat in circles or stirs no flittering butterflies in the pit of his stomach? Because thats what she deserves. She deserves butterflies. 


Noticing the distant stare of his wandering mind, She keeps her two hands planted firmly on the wheel at 10 and 2 and prays for peace- finally realizing that this car is not the only thing in motion. Her desperate attempt to free herself from this temptation offers no relief. Yet again. 


To avoid embarrassment she reaches for the radio dial once more if only to drown out the ever charging melody pounding violently within her own heart. But just in time to hold on tight, he reaches for her hand and squeezes ever so gently. With no words spoken his heart says to hers, *We're going to make it love, we're going to make it.