Prunella

A fall night on 13th Ave, a girls' night's grace,

With an open window overlooking the place.

A gin-filled wing-tip, cool against the lips,

As Devon approaches, an essence that eclipses.

There was nothing "Plain Jane" about The Process we'd keep,

The menu was our invitation, promises held deep.

Yet, the memories made are the map, clear and true,

That will always guide us back to this feeling, and you.