The Last Drops of Ice Cream

Once upon a time, we were children,
Running down the street, hand in hand, sipping the biggest milkshake we could buy.

We’d turn circles in the rain, counting the drops that hit our tongues,
Laughing until our teeth chattered and our hair was tangled.

Then we’d race for the garage, your cheeks red in the downpour.

Saturday morning cartoons and bowls of cheerios,
A quick kiss in the sandbox sealed the day, as our fingertips brushed,
Like little toy cars buried far beneath the surface.

And sometimes, we’d watch the moon rise over the highway,
Tasting the salt on the other’s lips, the sun in the other's skin,
Knowing that home was just around the corner.

But come spring, we’d sit on the back porch,
Sucking the drops out from our ice cream cones,

Seeing who could make theirs last the longest,
Before everything melted away.