‘Night time sharpens
heightens each sensation.

Darkness stirs and wakes


We were the cliche;

Young, dumb and full of rum,

We were wild and free,

Eighteen forever.


We were not ourselves,

With our glittery eyelids

And sharp drinks.


We were whoever we wanted,

But who we could never really be.


Still, we danced and we laughed

And we felt more alive

Than any other time.


We imagined the night

Would never end,

That our endless youth

Would save us.


We believed in the power

Of a rhythm and a beat

In a darkness that made

These versions of us


Letters to Euturpe 10