We wrote promises to each other
on the backs of our hands,
wrote them with sticks in the sand
of Lake Burton’s shoreline,
wrote them and spoke them
and broke them
effortlessly.

We wore ourselves thin with them,
snapping promises like cables
until they could no longer
hold up our weight
and the suspension bridge
bridging us
came crashing down

and even then
across the chasm and the gulf
we cupped our hands
around our mouths
and shouted promises at each other
until we were too hoarse
to say anything at all.