I always associated you with sky, because the times you came alive were starlit nights. You’d wake me on especially beautiful evenings, and I wouldn’t resist. We’d stand outside with our bare feet padding chilly on the grass and your arm around me.
I loved you because
You woke me at odd hours and never expected me to
Complain. So I didn’t. We watched the planets spin, and the orange flame
Burn across the rooftops.
For half an hour we didn’t say a word.
I shivered in your dirty coat and watched my damp breath
Cling against the sky. Finally you said,
“We don’t know nothing,” and I said,