We were chefs
(Monkey Soup a la Mode
1 ***** flower ***
4 small fistfuls of grass
1 hose for broth
Add clumps of dirt to taste)

We were teachers.

(and by we I mean she)

We were trapped in the tree house.

(but we were still able to order pizza
from the disconnected land-line phone)

We were parents.

(even though the girl we received from the Eskimo village
always insisted on being a dog, and I'm not sure if she
ever ceased to)

We were children of Disney.

(Peter Pan easily would've had me at the first mention of
a mermaid lagoon)

We were in love.

(with life, with the sun, with VCRs,
with the fact that we had spaghetti, bath time and Nickelodeon for inside
and bare feet, bikes and basketballs for outside)

We were heartbroken.

(when we had to leave adventure out in the wind,
or when one drew better than the other could,
when doors were slammed in faces,
when mothers wouldn't allow playing "Slime Time Live"
until the first of May)

We were who we chose to be.

(and the only thing that stopped us
was found in the sky
the giant star
replaced by billions of smaller ones,
the man on the moon
waving one last hand
with his son
the boy on the moon
who wanted to marry me)

(or so she said)