Little Moments
Under a blanket of sky
When the world was black and white,
And we inhaled laugher, exhaled smoke,
Talking to the sliver of the moon,
I remembered.
Laying in your dead-end street,
Singing of fireflies while the
Gravel pressed into my skin and the midnight
Streelights shimmered,
I understood.
Trapped beneath a million stars
Spilled in milky silver stains across the
Ink of night,
Our voices mixing with campfire embers
And the smell of wet grass,
I knew:
The spaces in between the second hand's circle,
The breaths after twelve, three, six, and nine
Make me feel less like myself
And more alive.
I find my heartbeat in little moments,
Whispers of time that I
Can't live without.