I tapped your shoulder in the dark
and you turned cheerily,
spoke a greeting through the night
"And who, friend, might you be?"
I stalled reply. Though I could see
your features clearly (with
the moonlight to my back), mine
were totally eclipsed.
So you began to guess at me,
a silhouette of black,
but soon forgot the game as we
wandered our way back
together. We went on regardless,
talked along the road,
and joked about our politics.
But as we neared the end,
I was grieved by all of this.
For we were better far
as strangers than we'd ever been
as what we were before.
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