He followed me up there, climbing the spokes of the wheel as it churned us across the sky. Coloured carts weaving through the stars, I sat in a curve, scooped out of metal inside.
"Do you remember?" He whispered.
I wish we had chosen a Merry Go Round. I wish I had a china horse that could gallop me into the night.
My heart is swinging in the bucket above the sea.
I let go of his hand.
Beats of a haunting remain.