I want to be reminded of
how it felt to lace your fingers 
between mine before we
faced the world head-on.
Now I am looking up 
and stretching out, 
grasping at spaces where once
there had been places to hold.
And though I'm not afraid of heights,
the ground looks farther now
than when I stood on your shoulders,
but the sky seems no closer.

As the sky expanded
and the ground quivered
beneath our feet,
we found ourselves killing time
filling the spaces
between fingers and thoughts.
And though the world was breaking
and the trees crashed into the dirt,
we couldn't help but focus on
counting the steps between the ruins
and waiting for a reprieve to place
our belongings on the ground
and continue business as usual.

With all these good boys coming home
bad girls have no where left to roam:
I'll have to trade those dark, forgotten streets
for cold, white, empty sheets.

It is easy to see my body
added to your body like
some nested IF function:
IF we are greater than or
equal to x than consider
us x; if not we're nothing,
& if we are to be nothing
then let us be averaged, 
summed up with a single
simple formula just until
we can match or combin
on a spreadsheet before
laying inside of arms that
curve and contain more
data than parentheses.

I can not recall the last time
I saw horseshoes
or four-leaf clovers
or rabbit's feet.

But somehow
(despite what the cereal companies
might have me believe)
when I'm with you,
I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.