Balance is lost from me. I’ve been sleeping under a trampoline during these summer nights. I point out the constellations to you through the mesh. The Little Dipper became the Big Slide and so on.

We told each other stories that haunt the night. The crinkle of distant bushes brought us together— sweaty palms stayed locked through the night. In the morning we went and got curly fries and told ourselves the future was far off— that the road beneath us would never run out.