We recycle friends like old passwords.
We talk whenever we need to be talking.
But what about all the space in between the words. That we never talk about.
What about all the secrets, you whispered to me
I knew them so well, we sat there on the red swings
Swinging into the sky.
Wings growing from our outstretched hands
We flew so far high and drank the clouds
Woodchips on hands, crashing against our teeth
We lived in between each other.
And crossed rivers flowing from our minds.
Bridges were caves
Trees were castles.
seven and alive
We were the kings of that glass world.