you got a sunburn on

the first day of grade school.

strawberry juice ran down

our stick fingers,

our ruby eyes blindfolded.

we were endless then.

you traveled to scarlet, rocky mountains

the summer before middle school.

velvet sails of ships went with you,

leaving only rugged waves

and the stems of roses behind.

you gave me red m&ms

on the first day of high school.

we watched vermilion sunrises

and mushrooms grow

as you braided holly

into my hair.

we only worried about

our bleeding pens—

our hearts were far enough away.