1. All the kids at the party were busy talking New York and I hadn't learned that language yet, so I took to the sidewalk where the trees were blowing up pink and white and tipped my head up to overhear a bit of the words I understood, and I walked watching the branches move and converge until I veered off the sidewalk into a parked car, knees bruised on the bumper, bit tongue but still worth it.
2. We drove up to the lake that night and I swear there were shooting stars all around the place but I'm pretty sure it was just the tip of your cigarette reflecting off the windshield each time you took a drag, and I kept making wishes for each one I saw and at least two of them came true but not with you. You moved to California, and that's the last I heard of you.
3. It was the 4th of July and I was driving over the passes alone. I'd just left you, and I was going home at my own speed. No one was expecting me, so when I saw the sun setting, I turned at the first town I came to and followed the parade of cars and parked. And I sat on the hood of my little hatchback watching the fire bloom above me, and I was nowhere and with no one and it was just fine.
4. "Get up." "What?" "Get up." "Why?" "Just come and see." I take her hand and she leads me outside, and the sky is filled with lines streaking down, white strings on fire burning themselves to the end of their rope and I find the same sky 20 years later in the grass while my daughter sleeps inside and something in me is just waking up.