They called us destructive—
tiny, wild animals
caught up in cheap candlelight and
high on back-alley weed
or inky Pinot.

Soured sweet memories of
glimmering nights out and
stolen weekends spent
begging for the keys to
your parents’ Chevy.

The rare times they agreed
were the best days—
the only days
worth all that
trouble.

We’d drive (and fight) and
drive until we couldn’t even
find our way back to that
stuffy garage in your
unnamed city.

 I swear you made
my heart quiver
when you sang
slowly—
the soft rhythm of your
voice after a cherry-lipped kiss.

Sure, there was that time
when I broke your laugh
and you cracked
my heart into splintered shards…

It just always seemed so
pure—that addicting war we waged.
The honesty of it, the
unfeigned tenderness of it.

The ineffable
brilliance
of you and me.

—

Danielle Wong is an emerging author living in San Francisco. Her debut novel, Swearing Off Stars, was published in October. Her work has also appeared on several websites, including Harper’s Bazaar, The Huffington Post, and USA Today. Beyond writing and reading, Danielle loves traveling, running, and watching old movies.