With the tapered off finger of the trees
At eye level,
We sit on the rotted out porch
That much closer to the sky.
Playing connect the dots in the stars,
While pondering our purpose.
My warm breath against the shoulder
Of his shirt with our heads nestled together.
We might go to heaven or hell
Or even come back,
But forever with the moon as our witness,
We will remember we were once
In love.