the scent of burnt rubber pours into my car
as we stop an hour toward nowhere
a call and twenty minutes later we've hitched
the car behind, explaining about the forest
our savior a city girl, she can't fathom
but drops us at the park, smiling and waving
promised the car would be taken care of
by the garage down the way

you are so excited it makes me nervous
that reality won't measure up
but the light in your eyes and the flutter of your hands
keeps me calm, gathering sticks
newspaper crumples and a match is struck
woodsmoke connects me to loneliness
to the cold ground before a crackling fire,
bare feet wet with dew
of standing silent rapture in dark oranges and reds
against the black treelimbs and deep blue evening sky
and my father and his pipe

we turn off our smartphones
goodnight weather report, messenger, voicemail
we shed our prosthetics, become simple
naked and alone in the forest
with a steadying touch on your cheek
i apply your chapstick
my hips against yours
your forehead to mine, our eyes closed
further thought

Shuffle, replace, or draw a card.