Remember the days of easy innocence, where summer was our whiskey
The sky of red and orange and pale purple as the sun set was intoxicating

"Light the fire!" she cries, her hair a golden flame of itself, tasseled and wild-
"Lord of the flies," now she cries, "lord of the flies"

And sometimes we'd be alone but never lonely
Or at least we never realized
Lady Southwest with the chestnut eyes
She's missed it all but somehow endured-

And here I am
I linger on the wonder of little things, and hide behind my boundaries with thoughts that nothing could ever harm me, here