We were together the last time, I think it was the last time,
in Venice, on the beach. Two German tourists were changing
into beachwear they had just bought; shorts and tank tops,
still in plastic bags. The sun burned down through the haze,
and the sand between our toes was what we came for. You were
checking out the guy; I was checking out the girl. It's hard
to believe we're in a hot car on the run from the law. Where
did the time go?