The Strip Mall as the Sun Sets After the Storm

I get lost in the neon sheen of the signs, lost
in their reflected promises.

The liquor store shines like some behemoth,
like light itself split open, spilling out its splendor
over the rain-slicked parking lot.

I get lost in its welcome, in these vast arms
of beautiful commerce, in this soft whisper
of promised release.

***

Histories, Then, of the Need

Histories of darkened blood
brought to the surface
of the neck –

how we bruised
one another
in movie theaters,
under the playground slide,
in dark woods

behind our houses
away from view.

Image by Chase Stine via Pexels