This was the best day in awhile;
or at least the first I can remember.
We waited under the moonlight,
tracing each other's spines and retching in our outlines.
The night was a striking contrast,
day and night intertwining and ripping each other to shreds.
Our love, like theirs, won't last half as long as vintage marriages of long ago.
Framed in infamy and white lace they used to dance waltzes under bloodshot skies.
We speak of times long ago, as if we aren't part of this dying fashion.