it’s two in the morning and ninety degrees

we’re gleaming on the porch
******* down the stale air
from a father’s fat cigar smoke

my best friend pinches my pupils
with her fishing wire love song
launching her secrets
like bottle rockets
through the shells of my ears
blushing blue about how
she can’t help but savor a boy
who would rather linger with birds

she leans in close
mouth still blistered from
all those bees buzzing
in her sunset breath

she said we better start living out loud
because we can binge enough  
electric currents to stay restless for a while
kissing wrists through a springtime tantrum

i tell her about all the places i go at night
boarding time machines in a split screen mind
to when we were under that pine tree
burying letters to lovers like dead bodies

she asks if i ever look forward

i said all i know is time and air

but sometimes it feels like our rotation has paused
and oxygen might seem thick enough to drown