When It Rained Silver & Gold

She told me 
and it hurt
stinging like 
paper cuts and razor blades.
Like sweat in my eye
that time,
the fourth of July.

We stood in the empty
field, watched cascading
plumes of silver and gold
fall like exploding stars
beyond the trees.

It hurt like
St. Peter's arrows
all through my chest,
quick pangs and
gritty stabbings 
like back-alley murder.

And in my eyes
were still those smoky 
remnants of fireworks
and you leaned on my shoulder
a chill running through you,
electric,
into me.

She told me 
and wow, it hurt
like those safe explosions
we watched from afar
all alone in a quiet green
pasture, all grassy and smelling
sweet 
100% humidity and 95 degrees-fahrenheit.

Sweat dripping from her hairline,
her bangs matted to her forehead,
and I was drenched
could feel drops running down the
backs of my thighs,
heat 
not nerves.

She told me
I wasn't honest with you
there is someone else.
It hurt like being
a rocket
blasted into space
to divide into 
one thousand pieces
my body to rain over
you in bright sparkles
to fade away from you,
forever,
it hurt like 
the stars being
out-done
by sparklers
on a hot night.