A smile
Never
Lasts

She sees
Past
The
Future

No promises
Of love
Or
Of nationality
Ever
Render

Past
The drinks,
The laughs,
The compliments,

There is a

Loneliness.

What
Have you got
To offer
To fill
The
Void
Before you?

At least
The day
Isn't here
To mock
Us.

At least
The morning
Hour
Is
Far past
This
Hungover
Sourness.

My love,
She smells
Of fresh sand,
Effortless and
Grand.
In tricks
We show
Our
Means to
Survival.

At long
Last,
I am old
I am young
I am dying
And I am learning
As I
Am young.

Take me for
Peasant.

Take me for
Prince.

My body
And I...

We are bound
By an

Itch.