Fire Fader

Writing in cursive, I'm stringing up these curses;
If this had been the first time, we might have revised,
But it was a dark car parked over slick oil
Shimmering ghosts though the headlights and cold.
I'm wondering how the hell we ended up on Melrose
With you balling up the fear in your sterling hands,
And letting it drop at 1:30am.