A moment. A blunt, passed.

Watching him get higher and higher in the wind-bitten evening.
This town, this place, isn't home anymore, but for a moment we can pretend to belong to the dusty air, the crumbled ocean of Joshua trees.

Someone blows smoke in my direction and suddenly it's summer again.
Does he remember those days?
Back when his hair was longer than mine, when we spent the nights chasing back insomnia and the fear of failure.

We were two tired immortals, shoulders made heavy with the weight of another god's world.