to be a lover is to be a ghost don't you remember like long-dead actors of silver screen resurrected by light and shadow in a lonely cinema * we walked forever that night out of time out of luck unfazed by piña coladas un-phased by the moon color-corrected, color-timed, final cut cutting room floor editing me out of your thoughts just a memory not even that nothing *** These dreamy, literate and passionate poems chart the dizzy highs and midnight black lows of a doomed summer romance. Under the palm trees, under the stars, through the neon haze of L.A. in the dark.