Feather duster grass
tickled our arms.
Yellow fire leapt to our hearts,
igniting our desire
for foolhardy fun.
Suffocating black tar sky
and salted stars
looked down on us,
and the man on the moon
shook his head
with glowing disapproval.

Littered cups and
scattered plates held the remnants
of soda and
birthday cake.
We sat next to the fire pit,
a tribal circle of ten,
giggling,
an empty bottle of Coke
in the center of our sphere.

The glow of the fire cast shadows
across the faded wood fence.
Suddenly everyone looked bigger
and my shadow seemed small.
Laughs became louder,
the only other sound the
swooshing of mosquitoes out
for their last bite.
The bottle spun faster,
a tornado of destruction,
whirring and whizzing
to find its next target
And it stopped
in front of you.
Liquid courage drained
from my veins and,
for a moment,
I did not breathe.
Your face, level
with mine.
Your hair, tinged red
by the fire’s glow.
Your lips in front of me,
waiting, waiting
for my decision.
So I decided –
a feathery kiss
upon your cheek,
swift as the wind
and fleeting as
a fairytale. I wish
I had done more.
You exhaled with relief.