Sitting staring at stars
Wondering who we are
Or who we could be.
Catching falling stars on our tongues
And picking four-leaf clovers
From each other's hair.

Reaching up to touch the entrails
Of fireworks, studding the night.
As if the Earth were attempting
To charm the sky.

Wishing on classic pink cars
As we roll down the windows
To try again and taste
The wind as it whips our
Hair into our faces
So that all we taste
Is our strawberry shampoo.

Running barefoot through the rows
Of the wasit-high wheat at midnight.
Hearts beating fast and
Hand-covered laughter
Knowing that every second that passes
Is one more second
We havent gotten caught.

Pretending that we are ethreal
Only eatting flowers and
sipping wine and honey.
Wearing our wings proudly
As we decide that fairies would
Eat vanilla ice cream cones
If they made them small enough.

Waking up every morning
To find that today
Is just as wonderous as yesterday.