Midnight at the four way and an asphalt stage turns the footlights red
Engine idle
drifts
like dial tone
under old light
to background vocals called by us
Negatives of you develop
in back pockets
while windows
let the breeze autograph our hair
First gear
pauses
in the synchronized mesh
as the moon
occurs
and the hospital focuses
Typecast in a movie
that reels
into a carbon paper sky
the thirty five millimeter of you
cries from our eyes into doctor’s hands