57 Weeks

Just took a few phone calls to insight bravery.
Through old storms a man drove.
In a night of cars.
Too many cars.
Found her looking through a windshield uncovered of the lightest snow.
Take me inside.
I see you have drinks for two.
Already chilled on ice.
I’d prefer silence and the action only of lips.
Why is the question.
Are you still stuck after 57 weeks?
He left ya and now I’m here to rescue ya.