You and I went to mid-priced restaurants.
You and I had expensive conversations.
A scent of lemon grove; it was only
industrial air freshener or the bug trap
glowing blue over my shoulder or yours.
Many decorative concealments, filigree.
Many things that could not be exposed,
no matter how long we talked, over what
desserts or off-priced margaritas as big as
our heads, as big as anything else we tried.