smile

gold hues

wispy clouds

we’re chucking donuts

(our favorite kinds)

off the jones’ memorial

when I’m with you

I feel like a kid again

living deep
without thinking about

time

this is real

under a pine tree
branch arms outstretched

covering us

a zillion light bulbs:

spotlights
for our night

if this is
if this is real

i never want to sleep