Believe in me,  
Not the echoes of past ghosts.
A house of cards, guaranteed joker—  
Every misfortune haunts the night.
A man, weary, waits at the edge,  
Worn down like an 8-track, spinning silently,
Late-night calls eating away at time.  
I’ll be your anchor, steady when storms rise,*
No doubts nagging, no fears to chase.  
Our vow— 75 degrees in the August sun,  
You said I veered off-course back there,
Stay present, don’t let distractions stall the ride.
If my words make your eyes roll,
Why does my mouth betray what my heart whispers?  
No need for stress—
That message delivered in a moment of despair.
Fingers on shoulders, my trust anchors in your gaze,
“Bello”--the kiss of life
Affection cloaking the terror of fading shadows—
Back-to-back, yet you dimmed my light.