Late night, leaving the show, ears ringing and hearts full, as we ride on my Vespa down empty downtown streets.
Her helmet touches mine, and her arms wrapped tight around me, her body against mine, trusting I’ll keep her safe and get her home.
The night is radiating a softer warmth as the heat of day fades away, and the wary animals cursed to be nocturnal watches us with glassy and shining eyes.
As we wind the streets of The Fort to our apartment, ghosts entwine with the remnants of those beloved songs, melancholy mixing with dread.
Walking hand in hand up the stairs of the complex, I lead the way, a single star up in the sky, were a million years ago we ruled the galaxy.
Inside, our apartment, our home. Ramshackle spells protect the door. The demons are every hungry for us, for all flesh. King and queens are still the subjects of fate.