Shadows hung off our faces

like disguises we could

not fully remove.

What we said

didn’t stand a chance.

I wondered at the fat randomness

of three parked cars

the only cars for acres

and the parking lot

halogen lamps on high poles

buzzing as if

their real purpose had ceased.

It’s hard to speak of love

in a place with no use.

Curbs and concrete islands

formed a rational way out.

We should have cut across them

into the dark field

at the edge of illumination,

listened for the common sense of crickets

and felt for the slow motion of the moon.