That Friday we drove him to New Jersey he didn't know what to make of us. Bucking the turnpike traffic and mocking the Garden State, he talked nervously of Scotland and skye.
We relished the mansion he was crashing. I lectured him on art and nouveau riches. He was dazzled by your beauty.
That evening we left him in New Jersey and drove to Brooklyn for its bridge but driving over it you see less than nothing. What an emblem of our love.
You charmed my college chum and his mistress who talked about brownstones and how they grow over.
Later we made hungry love in a Hackensack motel. You cowered in the car, and I teased your fearing prudery.
That morning we took him to Jersey museums.
In the shade of Wall Street, we relished Manhattan and at Coney Island we showed him around the schooners and aquarium.
By then he knew we were meaning business. He could tell us lovers from our quarrels.
That afternoon we drove him to Caledonian/JFK.
Favoring the bodies we had strained so sweetly the night before in the cramped yellow Gremlin.
We knew he knew from his parting words. "You two come visit me in Glasgow, soon, please do." And we will, we will.