On days when the wind

       Picked at our bodies, we sat

Outside on the front porch,

Chain smoked, factored

       How we would spend your birthday

Weekend while your mother

Spied on us through

       The window. I waved. I’ll

take care of your daughter.

Sometimes we would wait

         For the rain and when it

Showered, we ran through

Cow pastures, broken fields,

        Our arms pretending to protect

Us and we laughed.

We fell down in the mud, let the

      Rain wash our new clothes, whispered

Words our parents warned us against;

Just some kids hoping the rain

     Wouldn’t stop. At your party,

We got drunk off fast music

And tequila. I hit you or we danced

      Or we danced and I hit you. Someone

Cried. Someone apologized. I don’t know.

Our bodies tangled with the smell

     Of fresh smoke and BBQ. We stumbled

Through friends, a pile of beer cans,

Didn’t care that morning would wash

     Over the land and reveal what we had forgotten.

How I spied on you, tried to finger the shadows

That licked your face. Under the glow of the

     Bonfire, you seemed like a different person

And for a moment, I understood fear and mystery and fire.