The One Night Of Freedom

I wore those red high-waisted shorts with a t-shirt that had gold sparkly stars. My muscles were twisted, tight, anticipating a blow-up. We survived a quiet brunch in the plaza, crashing into a three-hour nap from the wine, waking up to the sun setting on the parking garage that was our view.

Sleepily, we drove to the fireworks out on the train tracks. We hopped on the top of your chilly Cadillac. I shivered, goosebumps crossing my body, from cold and fear. I winced as you put your sweatshirt around me, not used to your tender touch. My muscles started to unwind, as you put your arm around me to keep me warm. 

You took a photo of us kissing under a perfect firework, which soon became my profile picture to cover up bruises I didn’t want the world to see. I sunk into you, your familiar body that I fit so perfectly against, thanking God that something else could be red, white, and blue for the night.

<3 M.