our hands used to intertwine
like clinging ivy to its oldest tree
as we waved and laughed and hoped
in the downpour of the rain.
matching smiles on our faces
as we jumped the fence and ran,
our feet pounding the ground
to the same rhythm only we could hear.
but the sun set as it rose,
and rose-colored days turned
into black and white with splashes
of rainbows arcing over your face.
but even as we hit midnight,
and the roar of the crowd grew quiet,
our fingers still found each other,
even among writhing nightmares.
interlocking puzzle pieces
never to be separated despite
bent pieces and broken hearts,