and inexplicably we jump
into the lake
though it is three in the morning and cold
i feel a young man's giggle on my neck
and turn to find buck teeth
odd-angled
too-broad shoulders for such a giggle
next to him the fog rolls off the water
and covers my chin like it covers the rocks
so i can barely see them
and she trips, tumbling, like she's a step away from an avalanche
pine trees reach up to the moon and down the water
and our laughter
meets in the middle.