First came the noise;
with it the scarlet panic
that our eardrums would implode
and we would dissolve into pools
before we knew what we were made of.
Then we learnt to keep up with the baseline of adulthood,
every step like a new trespass,
stealing from the puckered night,
glances, kisses, remembered only in the flashes of strobe lights,
tinted ice green.
Knolls that became mountains
before they knew how to arrange their rocky skirts.
Crumbling like loaves against the frail dawn.