and at the Holiday Inn tennis courts, and the law office
that used to be a Pizza Hut? What if we convened
in the parking lot of our town’s dead mall at midnight?
Pretended to be leaving the Cinemark like the others,
slow procession to the suburb in car after car after car,
us talking about a movie we didn’t actually watch any of.
What if we let desire bleed from us at Friendly’s, slow
like ice cream melting down our fists? What if we dined
at the-all-you-can-eat sushi buffet that isn’t there anymore,
but what if we had, until we were sorry we’d ever wanted
a deal? What if you touched my knee in the Honda?
One bent finger at a red light in tiny circles, an incantation
that didn’t magic anything? What if we met the ocean
at the ocean, the salt on our lips bringing no names at all?