in which i wonder

a glimmer of the kids we used to be

written in the cracks of guilty sidewalks-

i ran with you

because i thought you’d wait up at the end.

we took a day trip to another dimension;

the sun was a pond,

their God was a moment

of fleeting hysteria

on the cusp of relief.

flushed memories singe my skin

and i feel no bitterness in the sting.

we were young, you know.

we didn’t make use of our time.