I thought I would share this.

"There's not enough time!"
we shriek to the sky.
Holding hands
     we run
      barefoot through the mud
        leaves,
We collapse, laugh, scream
howl madly at the moon.
We roll and stare 
       wide eyed at the night,
        never more alive.
I trace new constellations
    --in stars, old night
      and tell you their stories

And you smile.

So set on our tales,
we'll curse stars for moving,
      throw rocks to try to bring
      the whole glittery blackness down.
And then dance through the dust.

We make plans to steal
the first of the sun's rays
as they peak over the hill,
stretch to snatch it up, 
hold the light tight in our fists
       and ransom it
       for just a few more dark hours.

We drive for miles and miles
until we see
    Our lights,
    climb to the top
And here

alone
atop the world,
our lips meet.

And here

palms pressed to fingertips
pressed lips
and hips
and knees,
bodies ache for exposure
and Summer Night
melts cloth to feet
that press
bare to dirt.

"We're the only two in the world,"
    I say,
and you open your eyes
streetlights--traffic lights--headlights
                          all dark
            your laugh and smile
            the only sound in
 still, office block canyons.
Standing there at the edge of a breath,
we leap
And bounding through, pounding
    moonlight and starlight into dust,
    we dance,
    we collapse,
  we fall we fall
at once, into each others arms.
In the afterglow where
   Nothing
   moves me
from my bed of your breast
            of your thigh.
I'd lay there
tracing the lines
of whole, huge glittery blackness
naming those new constellations
   telling a story of us
      across the sky, we own
   telling a story of us
      and whatever
Forever.