I remember the last time
we were out here
Together-
This old parking lot,
This old car.
Sitting under the almost-clean stars
An easy friendship;
Our easy and our close
and
our joyous and our unconflicted friendship
Played happily away in the background
Like that song that's
Almost
As good as you
In the department of making me feel secure,
The song that was, incidentally,
perfectly, playing away that night in this old parking lot,
This old car, while I was getting sick
-but just a little-
From drinking too much milkshake.

I'm glad, really, that we
never
Came back in the months that followed.
They were already too full of pretense.

But I'm also glad
About last night
Last night
When we couldn't even see the stars
for the burgundy clouds
That made us think of the same thing
And there were more cars
-a lot more cars-
In this old parking lot.
We sat by my old car
that I hadn't driven in months
and just talked
and then we didn't talk
and even though the night was different
and the cars were different
and the clouds were different
and the stars were different
Even though...