Beholding the night sky and explosions there. Red, white and blue reflected off the water. Double-fisting sparklers and Key-stone beers and screaming with laughter at every even remotely funny bullshit remark. Head racing with all the new trouble and fun. Our dreams are a pissing, a fart in the cosmos. Orange-fractured black. No wake. The spikes of each new blast sail sharply out before dulling to nothing. Beholding the houses along the shore and listen. The impotent pop of distant fire-crackers. All of the brightness eventually fades. Beholding the beautiful asses.