How different it all is now.

No more fires.
No more smoke.

A fistful of dollars
that has lingered in
my
pocket.

The neon dark,
the girls all quit,
the barman resigned and
the phones gone
silent.

Just me in the middle:
bittersweet.

When Alexander watched
as his conquests burned,
I imagine that he felt somewhat
the
same.

They were the best of times.
They were the worst of times.

They were the worst of times at best.

I've kept with those I truly love
and who truly love
me
back.

Here we go.

Go, go, go.

Next time I see the sunrise
it will be while kissing you
awake.