Images floating in my head
like balloons turning in the wind
they soar higher and higher.

Holding hands under water
and the unbearable itch of bug bites.

Higher they soar.

Meeting a friend, and the heart-breaking cries
of a sister in her room late at night.

Colorful balloons growing smaller the higher they go.

Making love in my yard in the dusk, too quick to savior,
but urgent enough to be remembered.

I can barely see them now.

Black pupils dilating
only because we're in love.

The balloons disappeared over time
but I will always know they are there.

That's what counts.