Fingers Crossed

We were just kids, sticky with cake,

youth a thin veil, laughter was free,

a pinky promise sealed with sweet ache,

holding a universe of what could be.

Our fingers crossed, bound by delight,

a swirl of frosting smeared on our cheeks,

innocence glinted, so brilliant, so bright,

in those moments, it’s all that we seek.

Now those promises drift like leaves,

carried by time, like whispers untold,

a bittersweet taste that barely deceives,

reminding me of youth and the stories we sold.