Cacophonies, Constellations, and Cigarette Butts like Stars #8

I remember the way we used to sit in the dark

Leaning against the old, wooden porch,

My head thrown back, open-mouthed, laughing

At the way you phrased your inner memories,

At the way your thoughts collected on your fingertips like stars

Before you threw them up towards the sky in your expressions,

Down-pouring like meteor showers in my mind.

And I still think of the way

We sat in the arms of a blackness like dusk

That one Monday night at 3AM

While the car lights drove by and we hid from them

Because we didn’t want for any other light but ours.

You were my stars, my sky,

The floating orbs that forgave my darkness.

I have wished for many things,

But I have never stopped wishing for you.


This piece won 2nd place in a Florida state writing competition in 2014.

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