Hard work

I walked through your hair,
loaned you special songs,
the lace tickled your neck.

Nervy, we ran through hate,
our joined hands like moonlight
slashing a glass of water.

When the popcorn prattled
and salesmen crammed the doorway
we pushed them to the white space.

On rainy nights we carried the dog to bed
called sick friends, sharpened pencils,
asked the rain: “how do we make this grow?”