You’ll take my hand; I’ll hop on your back.
The dusky colors break our cognitive track.

We’ll set flame to the dying ember.
Maybe get lost in nights of September.

Dim streetlights strobe and flicker.
Our distant minds struggle to decipher.

Cherry tip glow and smoky lips.
Pressing each memory against fingertips.

Heavy lidded eyes deep as an abyss.
Weak replicas of things we miss.

Human interaction of subtle relations.
Overstimulating our everyday emotions.

Wandering to destinations by detour.
Such is youth and reckless behavior.