I walk with you with only the streetlights as our chaperones. My pace slows down, trying to stretch this 10-minute walk for 10 minutes more.
Your voice is steady, but I hear how it cracks like the ripples on a lake. I pray to the stars that the tears in your eyes are from the smog.
We walk on the side of the street, arguing over who gets to guard the other because we know we'll both walk to the middle of the road at one point or another. I win and push you closer to the side, feeling your hand in mine.
We reach the gate. I make you promise that you won't talk to strangers, that you won't walk by yourself. Our pinkies link, and I feel five years old.
You go home. I pray once more for more time by your side, but you have already crossed the road. I change my prayer for patience until I can make you mine.
// happy poetry day!! sorry for the lack of content. i lost my muse for a long, long time.