It was with a boy, a parking lot, and a hill.

mid-afternoon, mid-september, on a sunday.

stammering words,
holding eyes,
catching breathes

at the top,
around the dead grassed corner,
between two trees,
we sat and watched the leaves wander down.

gripping gazes and stealing secrets,
fields of flowers in my head growing
with the ideas of you.

wide open spaces,
they have this funny way of making the one you fall in love with
seem like eternal possibility,
like the ***** of the hill to the parking lot
was full of more then potential.

teasing through purple flip phones
and lips bitten to hide myself from smirking at the screen
meant parents asking questions,
where have you been?

we forged gaps of time between impossible increments,
just to kiss each other,
in a car parked in a parking lot
at the bottom of a hill,
on a late night in november,
where each and every latent october leaf had already all fallen
in love,
with you.