fingers entwined with
rubber bracelets & bands around our wrists, thick &
thin, ninety-nine cents for
a thousand, you grin at me through
cardboard 3D glasses, red & blue lenses
covering green & i
smile back, shy little girl with
too-short hair in pigtails,
& our feet dangle over the green-blue water in a
a man-made lake hundreds of miles from
any real ocean, but the water still
rushes up to meet us like a tide to steal away
my melting, dollar-store flip-flops & wash
them out to meet kayaks & sailboats &
we laugh, it's so silly i might die, you look at me
as if this means something, as if you're as
happy as i am & i

wake up to a house set ablaze with sound
& turned to ice by her ever-too-low thermostat &
i pry myself from my warm bed & i remember
i'm leaving next year
so much for stupid girlish
dreams