headlights

nine o clock, i'm making another list. there are satin flowers packed tightly in a basket that i found outside a church.
i hear her wet eyes blinking, farther away now.
the flowers are about 7 inches tall, there's a few fake buds creeping from the sides. my wrist is getting white from holding them, my arm is sore, a very red rose carved right above my bone.
the blinking sounds sore, there's a bloodshot picture in my mind, she's sighing heavily and her nails are brightly painted.
there are two tulip heads poking from my fingers, and a steering wheel taking my hands extra long to arrange the stems in order of size.
there's a black sock on her left leg and a red on the other, reaching her knees. her knuckles are stained yellow.
there are millions of ivy leaves climbling the rocks to my right. i cant see without my glasses. i take them off and it all becomes a blur of colors too faint and dull to recognize.
her coughing wakes her. she is tired and ill, she says.
i keep driving.
her fingers are moist against the leather seat, she's telling me to turn on the radio. she's telling me she needs water.
i almost instinctly try to crash into a telephone pole.
her mouth is half opened, a light colored apple of sliced teeth, the color of paste and fresh powdered sugar, prematurely dipped into fried dough and grease.
the weather is getting colder, i hold my breath and count to ten.
her toes touch the panel of the car.
i'm still counting.
she says her house is the one right ahead, i hear her whisper "stop the car..".
i stop the car.
she gets out and her legs are very pale. her feet are covered in a laced black granny shoe with a small heel. her socks match, all the sudden, and they actually cover up to her thighs. her neck is long and her hair is fixed.
i dont look, she walks diagnally to the wrong house.
she searches her dress for a key.
i count to ten, not starting the car.
there's something on her calf, two half hearts.
i'm still counting.
her legs fold, her knees hit the ground, there is a faint river of blood oozing from her body.
i start the car
she wakes up again, covered in sugar, this time. she says to turn on the heat
it's finally december, i say. picking at my nails. there are headlights in the distance