sometimes we pretended we were astronauts in a device built by traveling alcoholics
and would eat stars
with the blackness of our eyes
they never shined too long
but for a while
we were like streetlights in February

and how the air felt different
during the plummet
but we liked that too
because it felt like our bones would shatter
and be used to build new rides
or disappear in the mud that never seemed to dry

but they never did
and we’d leave
and think about how things didn’t go up or down an