I was quiet that night
mesmerized by the fire–
And I saw
Embers float to the heavens
where they became stars.
The moon greeted them
with a cheshire-cat smile
and they all laughed at the mortals below.
There was music in the crackle of the fire
and in the way accents melted together
stealing meaning from words.
And your lover told me that we should be friends.
“Because we both like to drink a lot.”
Whatever that means.
I tried my best to be kind
because you showed me the painting she created-
two hands of daisies, bursting from the clouds.
It’s hard to explain,
But I like it.
And I like her knobby knees
and her red hair
and the way she bites her lower lip.
So we shared a bottle of fourteen dollar vodka–
And together we swallowed fire
and we smiled when the heat slid into our stomachs
and when the world started to blur into a haze of browns, oranges, and blues.
Then a bright light trickled through the trees.
And a shout:
So I did
into the forest
before diving into a prickle bush
where thorns clawed my skin,
drawing blood here and there.
But I didn’t really notice, or feel any pain.
I didn’t notice you either
until you knelt down next to me and whispered in my ear,
“this doesn’t leave these trees.”
You kissed me.
And when the sun rose,
I wasn’t dizzy.
I could see the trees clearly.
I could feel the gashes in my skin.
And I laughed
because you were nowhere to be found
And I was okay with being alone.