Your lips taste like raspberry jam on scones, and something goes tilt-a-whirl in my chest. you whisper the lyrics of a song you like to me and I can’t help but notice how the protagonist dies at the end. I chase you through the parking lot, and you laugh loud like swaying trees limbs. We eat ice cream cones on the bleachers and you lick the side of mine before the chocolate can stain my fingers. I’m in awe of how easy we walk together, just the two of us weaving plans about ruling the universe. You in your scrubs and me with an apple on my desk. Or maybe the reverse. But the point is that I could hold your hand forever, the other trailing through the fabric of the gypsy dresses we so admire. You pull one off the rack and swing in a circle with it, I take down a matching one and we wear them to the bonfire. We dance in the dark, and for a moment the stars stop mattering. Everything bright is here in front of me. I can’t help but count the ways that you shine.