I want to sit in the shade
of you, fingers dangling
and echoing Fall Out Boy
lyrics into the folds of skirts
foot twitching to stroke the
almost perfect grass in the
long stretch of summer afternoons
and hopeful twinings of hair
grown long in an echo of
restricted childhood framed
by long corridors and
hospital smells fading into
choirs singing hallelujah
 as we left them behind.