we were carnival believers back then.
thought we’d win the prize,
just because our cotton candy hearts said so.
dangling our feet above a world
we’d not yet learned cold,
but far-flung and fascinating
and full of warm light.
we had that glow in our dark eyes then.
saw the light even when the lights went out,
even when others couldn’t.
because hurt only lived behind bandaids,
and broken pinky promises.
yet we were all pinky promises back then
twirling ourselves into a pact,
to being this honest,
this true,
forever.
now life
is one big glow-in-the-dark promise,
that when the lights go out
i will still be
this honest
this true
and full
of warm light.
