Fight for what you Love

Years ago, 
I imagine them nestled in the 
palms of south street like love birds. 
With camera shy smiles Polaroid framed 
on their callow face and boardwalk in their 
wayward step.

Before facebook, 
couples met in the heart of revolutions. 
First dates were spent being fire hosed and 
second’s were moonlight prison nights – surely 
not as romantic but unforgettable 
nonetheless.

Weeks later, 
outside reeked of the sweat 
from day long riots and the fresh 
air of mother natures perfume. 
Its like the more they confined them, 
the more people they freed; the more 
fight they had.