Why…

[image error]

The seats were metal then, cold even in summer. We didnt need a push, we didnt need a reasonwe swung, pumped our legs until the sun seemed close enough to singe, until our lungs swelled fat with breath.

The ground beneath us could have killed, but didntwe pumped and swung until it disappeared, until the iron chains we clung to wore patterns in our palms.

Circles, lines, and flecks of rust. No adults in sight, it was the two of us, dodging cars in search of freedom, flight.

Those times are...