We weren’t even there yet
When you took off your hairnet
And said softly “Park it.”
And in the dark, lit

A pre-smoked cigarette
And with the mood set
Said “This is starting to seem
Like a carpet, steam cleaned.”

You got out of the car
“It’s fine, it’s not that far.”
The scent of Windex remained
Where the seat was still stained

It seemed from the very start
The carpet lining of my heart
Dirtied at a faster pace
And though you tried, you lost the race

With every wash you put it through
It just got worse and we both knew
That there was only so much
That a cleaning lady could do.