wedged between cracked highways
neon pinks and blues shouting
NAILS windows bursting with white
while women file and coat daggers
in pretty colors—
a pizza diner cowers
hunched shoulders of doorways
booth cushions crushed of plump youth
I trace the barren valleys between the table's planks
nail digging through worn memories as those neon signs
paint your skin magenta—the color you hate now casting
alien shadows beneath your lashes
as my eyes reflect yours
an animal leaning left
ready to dart from an unfamiliar noise
your voice an echo
I slip from the wheezing cushion scampering back
paws reaching for the handle—the bathroom thrums a million
mosquitoes buzzing in time with the flickering lights—
if only for a moment I escape trying to replace
my memories of the stranger at the booth
with ones slipping away
the door squeals stabbing through my foolish dreams
as your lips part and burn the redwood forest of our love—
a charred stump where our initials were once carved
now a tunnel leading out.