it's 19

It's a blue turtle neck shirt, sweater, call it what you will.

It's a haircut that reminds me of Sliding Doors, or aimed to look as such.

It's a Duncan Sheik song, though I can't remember it now.

It's the last one on his self titled album.

And Nina and I drove to Ebor city one night

And we went to a small venue called the Sapphire something.

I was 19 and we were exploring.

And concerts in towns off our path led us to sad people and who would have guessed, the audience was made up of lots of cripples, sad with their prosthetic limps and various ailments.

Where had we wandered to?

Where had we come?

I felt deja vu,

like a reincarnation of my mother,

chasing a dream in a white linen suit

down the coast.

A musician who drew her,

and whom she unabashedly followed.

Ending in Miami,

she introduced herself,

"I've thrown away Ivy League to follow you and all my heart possesses?"

"But I'm already attached," he replies.

What a pity.

"Here is my brother, you should meet."

"Life advice I have to offer, but you're not my cup of tea."

"Goodbye," she said, and continued her adventure.

Now in a new place, with a new future on horizon.

I sat on the edge of a bed,

in my blue turtleneck sweater.

And the insane heat of the moment,

blurred all senses in my head.

The depth of sincerity, clarity and surety,

I found so overwhelming.

It's 19,

and we'll move on,

I know it.

But now, in this moment, I can't fathom how.

Though I'm myself enough to know better,

than to commit to this so.