one.
The two hour drive up left
my skin bruised with a spectrum of colors

two.
We poured ourselves out of our skin
         onto the damp grass,
                            ventured into woods in search of
                                                              bu­gs we’ve never seen
and words we’ve never heard.

three.
We cast our faces upwards
to escape the choking smoke
                                      and
                      ­  found ourselves struck by the clearness of the sky
you told me then,
Everyone of those stars could be decease
                                                                ­      you could be falling in love under the images
                                of things long dead
you said, Doesn’t that sound a lot like memories.

four.
We found ourselves alone in the dark
I was afraid to sleep alone
                                             maybe it was the handle of *****
left on the table  
                           but I found the courage to ask you to spend the night.
laying in the grass I thought the night sky would never
look this way again
                                   I was right.

five.
We took pictures,
saved them as mementos
                                          and I wondered that if I smiled
looking back
I might think I wasn’t
                                    sad.

Child's summer crusades,
How the wind loves the daises,
  .  .  .  Sun chasing windmills.

She measures self worth in numbers -
Numbers like the seven he gave her last night,
Scribbled on a coffee shop napkin.
She's like a butterfly, you see;
Wondrous on the outside
But blank within
Fluid, without shape or body or mind -
No spine.
She is whatever words are thrown her way.
She is numbers,
A simple code, a formula,
To which the answer will always be
"I'll see you at eight," or
"Call me," or sometimes just "Yes."
Easy.
She's shapeless conformity,
And when she wakes up someplace new,
She counts the numbers down:
Five, Four, Three, Two -
One time she had her own edges,
But that's neither here nor there, really.
Yesterday, she was seven digits,
But today, for now,
She's zero.