We had a pop can fireworks show,
a backyard Forth of July
and every girl wore a tiny t-shirt,
every one the same bouncy hair.
That was the night I melted away the sole of my shoes
and left globs of black rubber dried
the night we stole beer cans from parents,
after I disappeared into the movements of dusk,
before I went back behind the trees.
I remember orange glowing faces.
kissing on the edge of the yard.
I remember not having a way home.
Blured to the very edge, I believe my eyes wet that night darker.
And when the first cans exploded in the fire
embers out and up, raining down from the closing sky
I remember we all gathered close,
watching to see how bright it would get.
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