As we sped down the hill
in the shopping cart we stole
from the supermarket,
we never looked back, not once.

You wore a grey sweatshirt, jeans,
and no make-up. I wore an evanescent
smile and my heart on my sleeve. We
squinted at the sun as we grew closer
to the earth.

Oh, sweet July! Dreams reached
fruition in your embrace!

The cart was wrecked, but we
were barely bruised. We lay down
and idealised. We decided that we
would stay in a house
with a big "DO NOT ENTER" sign in the
yard, and we would never have children.
We would fight sometimes, but make
up at night with sex.

Flat to the ground, we dreamed that way.
This was in July.
I wore my heart on my sleeve then.