polaroids of a house on fire

Who were those kids who bought
Dime bags out of a parked car,
Some dewy summer evening?
Did we bounce from bar to bar,
When I pronounced my love
Tweaked out and a little drunk?

When we thought we knew
Ourselves and each other,
What was the shape
Of hours lost,
To scrapes and bruises,
Those voices behind thin walls
Who mutter and sneer,
While we shout from the bed.
Where did we go?
When that house caught flame,
Forced to realize
We couldn't save ourselves,
Or each other?

Embers of lives lived as one
Crackle, spent on the air.
A Northerly wind
Carries our souls,
To who knows where
But rests at last,
Together/Intwain.