I stood on the deck with my head tipped back. Under the fireworks
in the breeze next to the river across from the red moon I thought, this is home. And I thought that even though there are dozens of people I love spread all over the world how I didn’t wish for anyone else to be next to me. How in that moment I thought of no one and missed no one and yearned for no body.
I stood under the fireworks feeling star struck, half expecting the sparkling burst to filter down to me. To burn my skin and singe my hair. I don’t know where the sparks floated off to, but they didn’t make their way to me. My skin safe for another day.
Nowhere else I should be, nowhere else I want to be. How I don’t feel like a stranger here anymore. How I can stand alone at the rails above the cheering crowd and be purposefully separate, rather than isolated.
With my head tipped back and my mouth slightly open my eyes reflected the light in the sky. The boom so loud my shoulders jumped at the start.
“It is night, turning as I write into morning. The dark world balances and tips and already I can feel the dawn coming up under me.”