a tribute to those "neon nights"

Ah, and this is where we find ourselves,
Me—the silly pretend poet
and You, who turns words to liquor
(yeah, i'm quotin you in my title)
And it's all over before it began,
a startling blink,
a hazy stare
at that sad, beautiful reach
for soulmates and lovers
and friends and foes
one night too many,
ain't never too many—
to my girls,
to Our Year,
to our "neon nights"

Raise them glasses, bear pack.