she
sits quietly on
a cold, rusted bench,
day-dreaming to the
constant, melodic rustle
of reds, yellows, and oranges
dangling in the calm, crisp
autumn air.

she
gazes, breathlessly,
across wide-open fields,
full of creaking windmills.
fabricating memories,
hoping, one day to be
treasured as her own.
as the thick morning mist
surrounds her.

she
searches, patiently,
over-top tranquil waters.
waiting for him to
answer the questions
she cannot solve alone.
while the sleeping boats
gently toss and turn
against rotting docks.

she
glances towards,
the overcast clouds.
praying for, at least,
her shadow
to return.

softening the distant rumble of
streaking red and white lights
behind muted headphones.
he escapes to a place all to himself.

free to cross over empty streets, and
pedal backwards, endlessly, to regretted decisions.
free to release blistered handlebars, and
relive the memories written on eye lids,
without consequences.

as he leans into smooth asphalt curves
and disappears into familiar
darkness. leaving it all
behind balding tires.

they disappear,
tip-toeing past bedtime,
out into the cozy darkness
protected by the full moon shadows,
and fading high school hoodies.
both carrying a blanket,
a pillow, and a future

they climb,
step-by-step,
towards their favorite hole to the sky,
next to the old brick chimney,
weathered black shingles,
and forgotten leaves from
past seasons.

they lay,
hand-in-hand,
whispering valuable nonsense
and counting the asterisks,
until they slowly fall asleep
only minutes before the sun
begins to rise in the east.