The sun has begun its downward plunge
toward the bay’s far
shore, and golden twilight is unquestionably
for lovers—you with blackberry smoke
in immature lungs, me with frosted pink lipstick.
We’ll drink to that paradise blue, that moon for
the misbegotten. There are second acts;
wherever you go, my mythical
figure, don’t go too far off.

Source Text: Amtrack Arrive, July/August 2015

Kayla Allen is a senior at Northeastern University pursuing her BA and MA in English with minors in history and musical theatre. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of 308 Press.