That was the summer it was so hot
that the sidewalk scalded the soles
of our bare feet— but we kept running,
pretending it made us feel free.

The dying grass that crushed
gently beneath our steps
was as dry as your humor
so we danced like pagans,

praying for rain, hoping
it might wash the ghosts
from our memories. We were not
afraid, just ready to move on.

That summer everything stuck
to sweat-dampened skin—
sand and blades of grass,
vinyl car seats and memories.

We pressed ourselves together,
thinking we would never come apart.
I kissed you and imagined
how you would feel in my memories.