our stupid little games

"If we close our eyes, they won't be able to see us."  You said this at dusk while the rain sprinkled us.  You said this as we crouched in the field, by the old drive-in theater, waiting for the right moment to bolt to your apartment.  You said this, and I believed you.

"If we close our eyes," I said, "how will we see?"

You just laughed in that way you do and said in the most logical tone.  "Our love will guide us."

This made no sense and sounded stupid, but when you grabbed my hand, all my doubts disappeared.  The muted purples of the stormy sky filled my eyes.  The sound of the rain and distant traffic faded.  We counted to three, stood, and ran in silence toward warm blankets, cookies, and tea.  Soaked to the bone, the tall grass slapping our faces.  

Even though our imaginations were ridiculous, the danger we were in non-existent, my time with you and your hand in mine were enough to make me accept lies.