The sun was slinking
behind the silhouettes of palm trees and rooftops.
We were laughing,
as the ground cooled our bare feet
like a metal spoon left outside overnight.
As the sun slipped into her indigo blanket,
the glow of the kitchen window
made our shadows dance in the driveway.
The chartreuse night lamp
declared the hour of moths,
and we marveled at our purple skin,
until the helicopters told us to go inside.