Sun-drenched days stretched into one another and they reveled in their urban Eden-
gathered flowers that sprung thick
from the graffitied gardens of faded walls,
drank the sepia sunsets like mead and
waltzed giddily on rooftops to the
surging string orchestra that no one else could hear, to the surging blood in their temples
and the primal synchrony of their pulse.
They relished even (especially?) the nervous half-smiles and awkward almost-kisses,
the frantic pheromone butterflies that consumed their bodies,
the fingers fumbling to interlock-
all the integral imperfections.
For just a few sun drenched days
the earth slowed on its axis and the gawky boy and star-struck girl
meandered the wide blue world-
a world they wished to preserve in stillframe,
a world as fragile, ephemeral
as an iridescent soap bubble-
rising, shifting, dissolving away.
