I’ll have to see you in a couple weeks
and I wonder if we’ll walk through the gate  

again, back to the night when I just showed up at your door.
It’s always at sunset. Me with balloons, lit  

with silver led bulbs, what am I
even doing with these fireflies and  

paper lanterns? We mark them with permanent markers
and walk through the park to the playground. Sit on swings. 

You write the word    i-n-t-e-n-t-i-o-n 

And we count
               one, two, three— Release.   

& yours gets caught in a tree.
& we walk back in the snow. 

And you know that it is always like this
In-between us—something measurable,
& entangled in the air.