Dressed as a hippie,

I was wearing rose-tinted glasses.

Laughing with strangers,

you were wearing a common mask.

I was complaining about my ex to a girl you 

would try to make out with seventeen months later.

I don't know how, when, or why but

you and I stood alone together.

My eyes were fixed on the setting sun.

Yours, two golden grains, 

watched my face as if it was the sun itself - 

like I was someone interesting. Somebody worth knowing.

You tried on the rose-colored glasses and tied the cloth 

that said “PEACE” around your head.

I posted a photo of you on my main story. 

We had a candy-eating competition, 

ran into bare bushes, then went inside to sit by the fire that had started. 

It was fun, awkward, and innocent the night that bound us.