When Cars Look Like Stars Under Streetlights from a Plane

We had our last supper
On a cardboard box
Then we watched as the evening
Made all sorts of locks.
All non-confining,
But rather defining
What we really want:
To go the distance
Without the separation
To speak what we mean
And not need conversation.

It was the look in your eyes
And the salt in your tears
That made everything real
And made hold you nearer.
This fear is not estrangement,
A hot phone held against my chest,
So in defense my heart flexed
To preempt what happened next.
And your tears, I kissed,
As they fell to your lips
So you'd never forget
That you will be missed.