We play kickball for the last few hours

We played kickball for the last few hours, the day just beginning to diminish. The mosquitos were out that night, I remember our sweaty skin and jumping hearts pacing through that empty field. It was a masterpiece, I believe, the scent of it all, masterful in a way that only a child knows. The dusky sky looming over our heads, precisely placed apart from a dying world with kindred spirits, yelling it's need to be known. We run with dirt in our shoes and wind in our hair with gravity placed gently on our finger tips, touching the tongue of the rose bud because she loves me so, and I so her.