juice box

if we were friends at age seven
we'd sit on a stoop
our fingers laced
i'd be pigeon toed
your heels would touch
we'd name stars
and make faces
with the clouds

i'd say: can the stars hear us?
you'd say: if we scream loud enough?!

in our bubble
we'd hear
our echoes
and giggle

you'd say: can the clouds see us?
i'd say: only if we close our eyes

we'd turn blindly to the sky
then to one another
shrink
our chins
and through
our reddened
faces
we'd be friends