Stumbling, staggering in the center of the street,

Unconcerned walking in any given lane,

On the deserted asphalt,

Only seen by looming, electric strangers.

 

Towering over the couple below,

pouring shimmering gold pools of light,

To lead the tipped and tilted doll,

and the steady, guiding arms to the distant car.

 

In a drunken stupor she glances up,

at a lesser distance is his tired face,

and his shadowed jade and gold speckled eyes,

All in such close reach.

 

Closing in on both distances,

her hand grazes his cheek,

his hand opens the door,

to her side of the low car.

 

Tucking her into the black leather,

She sinks into the crease of seat,

Craving attention and grabbing his hand,

As his other grips the steering wheel.

 

The strangers grow dim,

In the rear view mirror,

They gaze at the couple’s bottomless horizon,

Wheels turning towards the abandoned highway.