Yes.

I remember it well.
You were a little fatter and I was a little skinnier and we both had messed up teeth.
I dressed like every other seventh grade yuppie and you pulled pranks on friends.
We are just a blast from the past.
We share fumes in unventilated creativity screens.
We make memories and tee shirts.
Can you remember?
The first time that I saw.
My mother knew all along,
He's crazy about you,
She said to me once more.
We carry the burdens of flags upon our shoulders,
We blow our trumpets, our car horns rumble aloud,
We light our fires, we burn pennies and dimes.
Love is not in the air,
No,
Nor is it in the wind or the trees.
It is in the ashes we made.
In the ashes covered in shade.
We sift and we search for money but none is to be found.
Burning cents to find sense like sand through fingers.

-A