The countdown began far sooner
than I expected.
I beckoned you over
with a small flick of the wrist,
embracing you round the waist.
My cheeks were flushed pink
from the festivities
(My insides felt the burn).
The crowd chanted in unison until
we reached zero,
and while streamers
and poppers
and noise makers
cried out through the air,
you and I shared a silent moment
of our own,
away from the explosions
of fire
going off right outside
the window.