Fear and loathing in Denmark,
Part deux.

The distant, melancholy sound of a train setting off
for parts unknown.
Railroad tracks.
Railroad tracks stretching to the blistering horizon,
is what I see when I think of you.
Railroad tracks, birthday cake and crushed knuckles.

Our love was but a brief stay-of-execution.
Your cousin and your brother tried to kill me,
and even though they failed, they came far too close.
Not only was I a worthless westerner,
I didn't even believe in any celestial configuration
of the wayward western pantheon.
My hands still show the scars I got closing the fresh wounds
with fire.

But I saw and sated you...
And received more in return that I could ever deserve.
I gave you my farewell on my nineteenth birthday,
slinking of down the newly paved road, heady with the smell of freshly molten asphalt and lost in a dream of what would and will never be.
We both deserved so much more.

Those who know love best,
are those forever scorned.