You would pick me up in half an hour, I'd spend the time brushing my teeth and making myself look cute but like I didn't try to look cute at all.
You wouldn't even have to turn off the engine, I'd be waiting on the stoop with the light on and bound to the car and in the seat and next to you and smile as I take your ipod and pick tracks that are for just such an adventure.
We'd drive, probably not talking much, maybe say "I think there's a park up this way," "This song makes me feel like summer all year long." The windows would be down a little ways, I can't tell if it's cold outside or if I'm tired or if the bumps that make the hair on my arm stand up are because I haven't touched you yet.
I shake my shoulders and put my fingers between my knees.
You lean towards the wheel.
As we come to a stop, next to a grassy field, a city down below, the stars up above. Both lights are just what I need. You reach for my hand as we run through the dewy grass. I didn't know the dew settled this early. I didn't know that running would warm me so much.
Unlocking our hands we claim our swings. The chains are cold, the plastic is wet. I pump my legs and the night air chills my cheeks. I can see my breath leave a trail as I swing back. Two sets of chains make quiet wrenching whispers. You went higher and jumped.
I keep pumping. Til I can jump over this city.