As we sat there,
like the bending back shapes
in a kaleidoscope cylinder,
I pressed crescent moons into
the palm of my hand.
The full moon, clouded,
gave way to terrestrial lighting
off bridges, buildings, a bicycle
descending away from us.
Particularly, we sought the bridge
In the blue and reds, our shoulders rolled back
bringing our knees together,
still symmetrical.
Your reflection
between where we sat and the river
brought green from the glass
or from me
or from the bridge
that disappeared between us.
I pressed crimson into my lip
envious of our knees.