All sixes and a perfect, untouched ten.
I fell in love with the thought of you then.
Blind, white fury; my unforecasted storm,
Oncoming to spite that grinning sunshine,
Blazing much brighter; your image sublime
And I taste your headache inducing tang,
Building, fit to burst luminescent joy
Over all the falls I had as a boy.
You come to me a cloudy mass unknown,
Expelling every passion all as one,
Until you're wasted, blown and all but gone.