On the night the last star fell from the sky
We took your grandmother's quilt to the trampoline in my backyard
Tangled beneath it
You shaved that day
I did not
I felt rude
You wrapped our legs together anyway
We watched them shoot across space like tracer bullets in a star war
Like a silent firework show in August
And sometime after the bats went back to bed and before the owl woke up to stretch his neck the last star fell
The night was so dark that there is no way you could've seen me staring at you
You blushed anyway
You always used to say you hated holding hands
I always assume you just didn't want to touch a sinner the way you touch yourself to thank God
You grabbed my hand that night and never let go
We spent what was left of yesterday trying to remember the shapes of constellations
Tracing them with quivering finger tips on each other's chest
Trying to guess its name from the feel of it
You were pretty good at this
I just kept guessing Orion's Belt until you felt bad for me
Inevitably speaking a star landed on earth that night
It was in the brown grass where the pool used to be
You must have kissed it while I wasn't looking
Your lips tasted of heaven
I thought you an angel
But you were still alive
I know this
I could feel your heart beat in my shoulder