Maybe we don’t have to be strangers

If grief is the price of loving, then I’ll grieve you like 2008 summer nights —bumpy card ridespeeing in bottlescool salty air and damp grassbarbecue and coconut waterprismatic lights strewn across the skymusic from home-burned CDsworn out stereosI’ll embrace longing for what has come to passLet the ghosts knock on my midnight windowAnd in the day I’ll get on with my lifeAnd catch glimpses of you in tinted glassBut I won’t see a strangerI would rather let you live in the spaceMy heart has made for childhood homesAnd summer nights of 2008.