For every bridge that’s marked with paint, scribbled
messages proving love with algebraic signs
and aerosol devotions of forever, there’s a boy
who’s waited up all night to sneak out, alone,
cargo pockets rattling with pressure,
a navy jogging hood pulled over eyes
that never glance at headlights flying below,
his teenage bicep flexing, arm hooked
around the railing, the only thing
that keeps his body from floating away.
There is no danger more than love, no fear
for boys who think all night of morning,
how she’ll pass and lift her face to his creation,
his monument to not believing anything can end.