We were like moths,

You and I.

We would flock to these street lights,

For almost no reason,

We would sit and chat,

About anything and everything.

Some nights were cold and rainy,

Others are warm and sticky.

But always, without a doubt

We would be under the lights.

Why?

Is because the warm glow

Reminded you of the warm flecks of color

In my eyes?

Does the warm glow of the street lamps,

Remind you of moments by the fireside?

With a mug of hot chocolate in your hand

And a book in your lap?

Or is it street lamps

Create their own environment?

The liminal spaces

Where time seems to stop

And there is not a soul around.

Is that why we are drawn to the street lamps?

Because we want a space that is just for us?

Does the want to be transported to a different universe

Manifests itself under the white beam of the street lamp?

You don’t have to know the answer, love,

I’ll stay here with you.

After all,

It is you and I against the world.