It was always September
when the stars remembered us—
how we lay beneath them,
two silhouettes painted on God's canvas
hearts flickering like flames beneath hearth
You wore red that night—
not crimson, not scarlet,
but the kind of red that feels like home.
Your sweater sleeves brushed mine,
your smile was like glaring at the sun ,
and your eyes held the kind of warmth
that made me forget to breathe.
We found our mound,
the one with the crooked tree
and the half-forgotten swing,
and we looked up—
just as the sky began to bloom with fire.
"Shooting stars!!", you screamed.
“Quick. Make all the wishes you ever wanted.”
I made a wish with each falling spark—
one for the way your hand found mine,
one for the way your shoulder fit perfectly against me,
one for the hush that wrapped around us
like a promise still unfolding.
But hidden beneath them all,
tender and trembling and true,
was the one I never dared to say aloud...
And then—
you turned to me
with stars in your eyes
and that smile
like the last light of the sun,
and said,
“I’ve been wishing too.”
You leaned in,
the world held its breath,
and when your lips met mine,
the sky seemed to applause in silent bursts of light.
Of all of the stars that fell,
only one of my wishes came true:
That you were falling for me too.
Erennwrites