[A very real place and a very real memory – Owen]

It was at least two lives ago.
We’d spend our nights out here –

It was always just the two of us;
One melodramatic hissy-fit artist,
And her.

I felt everything so keenly,
It was like I had no skin,
Only nerves on every inch of my body.

But I loved her with an eternal passion
That lasted that summer,
And sort of into the Fall.

Sitting here again,
Out at Payne Point,
I realize how well named it is –
For someone who had the misfortune
To have been there with me