“I want the entire street out of town, just so I can be alone with you.”

Now and then,

when I drive

past the same stop sign,

I think of late night walks and laughter

when the walls have started

closing in.

We kicked around through the leaves,

the way children do,

wishing

the burden

that you carried that night

could crumble and carry off

under our feet.

We were too young

to not feel young.

Sometimes,

Adore plays

and it’s

your hand

in mine,

like it was the only thing

that tethered either of us to the pavement.

The sky was wary of

the constellations

across your cheeks

and I asked them to take them

when your eyes were closed,

spinning to the song.