The barking gods humped the lunatic skies of Manchester in May
I sat solving riddles underneath the canopy and you were on the balcony all smirking and smoking
with mischievous dreams and hopeless romantic memories of the past that never was and a future that wouldn't ever come.
I knew it and you knew I knew too.
All choked up with sobbing and reading newspapers and candlelit vigils with pacifism.
Then you were different.
It was like you were born to change and be changed.
You had it in your heart.
All the blueprints and transcripts and text book ideologies.
All of it burned a big blue hole within you.
It didn't break you.
It became you.
In a good way.
On a Manchester day in May