twenty one

It's funny how everything tends to glow under starlight and smoke. Your hair is the color of the sparks dancing off the firecracker, my ears are ringing with the noise and the little boy calling you dude as if you were his bestest friend. The smoldering stars almost tint your voice with magic as you sing. Maybe I'm breathing in too much smoke, maybe I'm taking another sip of absolute crap just for the hell of it, maybe there's a smile on my lips, 

Maybe Fourth of July is my favorite holiday. For a few memories I forgot about everything except now. 

I wish now were infinite, because now I want to spend a while more with you. Now is a cute dress that smells like smoke and my breath blown away with the wind. Now is a chair with a cushion.

Now don't stay awake too long, although my thoughts hate to leave you there, glowing mournfully in the grass;