I can't turn wistful, reminiscing about the times I played with cherubs in rose gardens
turn mud- and blood-stained linens white
no matter how long I try
no matter how hard I rub
Can't wash off the impurity or the vile serpent slithering up my left profile
cause innocence was lost.

In those gardens
my hands bled from thorns
a dozen bruises on my knees from the dozen hundred times
I fell but stood right up.

My friend lit up my first cigarette
she told me I didn't know how to smoke
I couldn't inhale the poison into my lungs
no matter how long I tried.

My closest circle was corrupted with alcohol
spawned a couple drinking parties, liquor flowing down our throats like a cascade
and I was getting good at it.

We were driven to manic places
youth was glamorous like a firefly-lit sky
I was always off to the races
and when we got dropped off by Villa Gemini

I doubted for the first time if this was what I wanted.

Not gold hoops with matching wine cups
on white yachts sailing down the Styx
I changed my ways
rubbed myself clean
leaving scars that will remind me
of all the crazy things I've been
and now when I crave something magnificent
I lean forward for a big kiss
Shadowed by a lemon tree
that comes with nothing evil
Caressing the hair of yours and conquering my ego.