To the end of the road,
glittered by streetlamps
each of a different wavelenght,
you said we should go.
To the end and over the fence,
where the glitter is no more,
where the lights are seen from far,
where the lights are merged with the stary sky.
On the darkened grass, yet silver from the moon,
you said we should go,
where we are around it all
and not the other way around.
Where we can choose the path of the stars,
you pushed me down on the ground,
and I heard you giggle,
oh, that indescribably pleasent  sound.