When we were little,
We used to play in the meadow adjacent to the bustling highway,
Always sure to stay far away from the danger that the road held.
As we got older,
We would dare each other to touch the dandelions,
The ones that ran next to the road,
And eventually to tap a foot on the blacktop.
We finally grew up,
And I would hold your hand while staring at the abandoned path.
There was no need to use it anymore,
Except for the occasional traveler.
Suddenly, you stood up,
Your pale, soft skin brushing gently against mine.
I stand up next to you with a curious glance.
You give me a bold and flirtatious smile,
Your long hair trailing behind you
As you run towards the highway.
I grin and follow suit,
Until we’re standing side by side at the edge.
You will take a deep breath
And cross the road in a few long leaps.
I will put my foot on the ground and close my eyes,
Running after you.
But when I open my eyes on the other side,
You will be gone
Because I will remember
Attending your somber funeral
And holding your sobbing mother.