we stole their starry nights

there’s a boy and a girl,
and we watch them as ghosts.
we wear draping white tees,
matched only by the halo on your head.

there’s a boy and a girl,
and they lay atop rubble.
it’s a mountain of concrete collapsed,
and they watch the stars from their cave manmade.

the stars don’t blink tonight,
they move. they leave trails of fire-
in their path. the trails crack.
the girl smiles.

she’s cold, though; don’t you notice?
he does. see the worry in his eyes-
of glass. he hands her a blanket.
she refuses.

wait. a star moved. it’s arcing.
she points.
they gaze.
he gasps at the fireworks.
she laughs at the missiles.
you look at your watch again, but-
ghosts never run out of time.