night

I can still feel
the warmth 
of those summers,
oblivious to
dirt and sweat.
There's no such thing
as too many cookies
and sleep is
the enemy.
Let's charge through
the dark
sprawl of lawn
barefoot,
arms dancing with
lit sparklers,
black erasing
light in our
hands -
fleeting
fire -
this moment
will never
exist again.