Late in the power of the night and nothing was glamorous. Us. I don't know. What we share is a glow. No flashy lights because the moment is a blurr. Don't quote me but I'm thinking of her. And it may be a fault not my own, out of my control. A familiar tone. A singalongable song. Stolen from past love stories of long. With letters of narration and much anticipation. But who decides the tides and who controls the toles. Because I'm down to pay. Against delay. And done waiting. So I stand. In powerless demand. Debating. Happy to be alive. Striving to be free. Glad to just be. And she. Exploring. Contouring. Light images spared no expense. And someday it will all make sense... Like, right now... Blaow!
Photo by Sadie Myers. Words by Dustin Whitehead.
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