Oh to be young and so very restless
When scarce I could utter a clear and comprehensible thought that was not on fire;
Oh to fuck everything I see,
To love it a good and long time, to be in love and carried by it.
Oh to be young and restless, smooth and tender, and aching;
Like two sweet breasts growing at sixteen.
We might remember in our old age,
In our stable monogamous lives,
What it was was like when all was lit
With a soft scarlet glow.