Strawberry Smile

You tap on the window of the passenger seat,

fingers spelling out the rat-a-tat-tat

You snap your fingers too hard

a forced, uneven sound

You whistle a tune

that no one has heard before

over and over and over again.

That same night,

your fingers trace loving patterns on my face

and your embrace smells like lemons.

You smooth my hair back and tell me

that you love me

over and over and over again

and I can taste your strawberry smile when you kiss me.

It's the rat-a-tat-tat,

the snapping,

the whistling

I need to remember that I said goodbye to,

not the patterns

and the lemons

and the strawberry smiles.