Lollipops (Labor Day)

Lollipops (Labor Day)

The two of us are piled in the back of Kaylie’s convertible,

September wind sticking strands of hair

to glistening, saliva-shined lollipops,

street signs speeding away into the cold sunshine.

Pinky fingers lock together,

a cousin’s code from days that

melt in our mouths.

She spits out talk of

movies, makeup, boys

but our eyes truly shine when she recalls

the way we’d film in the backyard,

the tire swing grazing shards of sugary grass.

Laughs are strung out

along the highway.