As the evening rises across the bay, the golden bridges on our faces meet to make a crossing so great
it straddles the sea —
the sea of tears, the sea of mutiny.
With our brows pointed awry, no longer must we bawl.
Gone are the days we jump and fal l— no, no longer must we brawl.
But if we did,
it’d be water under our bridge.
When you rest your forehead on mine… that pass can overcome the id,
expel the demons that’ve lived since we were kids.
Oh, my love —
that pass can still the hellish winds, blow out the flames
laced with turbid games.
We no longer wait for hell to freeze over just to find a lover.
The witches, the demons, the curse, even the devil himself —
send your worst.
It’s your turn to write and suffer. But we will hold hands, you and I, and look them in the eyes
with such intent, such life —
it’d make even the most heinous Fates kneel and cry.
Yes, I’ve got my lover. And with her,
crossing the sea of yesteryear… I foresee it’s been no trouble.
