It didn’t hurt, nor was there a flavor of fallen grace.

It didn’t feel like the rain, nor bursts of thunder.

It was a rather banal affair, very commonplace

When I finally lost my virginity, down under.

The winter hesitated, then shoved its deep claws

Into me, while King’s cross pulled out my eyes.

Sydney had welcomed me with all of its flaws.

All of it’s spectacular lows. All of it’s spectacular highs.

Through St. Mary’s cathedral, to the cupids of the park.

I stepped out for a glorious sunrise with only love’s cloak.

Before venturing into the blue mountains in the cold dark.

And admired the 3 sisters: A lustful masterstroke.

To the drunk Aussie weather gods and goddesses,

I said a solemn cheers. For all their winter excesses.