I am the bohemians
I am fern-covered lovers hushing their moans
I am the lull in the night, whispering, promising
I am the promise of new life
I am reflecting off the silver, wrapping myself around his fingers
I am her glazed-over eyes
I am the hazy fog sitting triumphantly on the reeds
I am painting lunar self-portraits in their hair
I am the misfits
I am the journey
I am going to save you
I am going to **** you
I am We
We are the bohemians