Short nights.
We toured the sands of lake Erie.
Wet feet,
The flashlight beam breaking on rocks and waves and empty beer cans.
You laughed at me and we talked about finding a bear or
Maybe, in a few years, living together.

There was heat.
I was swinging and the trees were touching my feet,
Bending boughs before us and the cops came
So we piled in your car and you
Were called to “drive faster.”
Speeding up to catch the sharp exhale I
Let spread across your neck,
Trickling slowly off your collarbone.

We brought a camera.
And, negatives spoke volumes when we reviewed our faces;
You were looking at your feet and my
Eyes were on your lips.