She’s outgrown her ideas
Of whom she had to be
Maybe you’re torn between
The past and the present;
today and tomorrow
So let’s unwind not without wine
And hold unto our spine
like the winds of summer
Abrupt, a comeuppance
For hoping for the sun
So let’s begin the fun
Eyes,
Sealed off by local tapas
And familiar breweries
Taking stock of her pallid self,
On a Friday evening,
Caressing her thoughts to take
the weekend by the horn.