The sun has almost set,
Somewhere across a sea where we once played.
This sand has scents of earth and damp
Where we rest our weary bodies,
And talk of lives betrayed.
Last time, we clung to life in that apartment
Which looked out across Gorky Park
And we swam in vodka truths
There was no bed, but we made do with what was there.
But now, unspoken, we know that this is all for one last time
And so deliver each final line
Safely wrapped and given in beautiful lies.
bobby stevenson 2012