pictures and apologies,
dinner and hallways...
I am eighteen again,
within a lonesome youngster's
decisions.
they be death,
by a drawn-and-quartered past.
the reader knows this,
I do not.
Yet.
let's dance in black-and-white pictures
and see what happens.
the future looks brighter than it did a week ago.
(If I could save the world,
I would die
for your golden eyes.)
next stop shangri la.