Pulled we
Were,

This way
And
Maybe that.

Here was
My hand,
A totem
Of your perceived
Perfection.

I always hated my nails
But,
You loved them,
Painted them,
Said they were shaped
Like your favorite cycle of the moon.

At noon
We made lemonade
With grenades
Of *****

To celebrate...

What?

To celebrate.

Look me in the eye.

We can
As you and I and we,
Celebrate,

Exempt from past, present, and future.

The moment allows it.
Will we?

We will.