Tippy toeing across the desert sand cracked
Cement stepping stone road
We venture towards
The blooming onion bonfire that
Rises like a medusa’s hair in a galaxy fueled by the heat of a dying star
The raindrops roll down my china doll cheeks
Makes my hair glisten like candlelight hope diamonds
And the rain washes away my feelings of self loathing
This weathered couch so lonesome in a field of horses
Seats sociable strangers
Intoxicated with vodka mixers and self pride
Under an umbrella a polish model speaks broken English poetry
Cuddling into my side we became sisterly
My body was their hurricane shelter and my arms kept them from harm
He slid in on the ancient couch to seek momentarily comfort
Faded unaware of societal notions of what is accepted idealisms of friendship
The bass of the stereos fueled the masculine desires for destruction
Laughing they tossed the grandfather couch into the flames reaching fingers
We say our farewells as it becomes to ash from the process of being cremated
Elegant wisps of smoke rise above us like sprites from the forest
We say our goodbyes, and walk to the cavern of night’s darkness
We leave our youth behind us
These four years were the best