May May Maybe?

I've been slowly cleaning out my attic and last night I came across a box of pictures I'd taken on my 1st trip overseas. There I was outside Venice enjoying my first taste of grappa. A snapshot of crumbling ruins and gelato. Pisa, Assisi and Rome, & then me in front of the Panthon. And as I searched the 17 year old face defiantly staring up at me from its celluloid prison, I wondered where that girl had gone. Look at those dark ass eyebrows, wild and untamed, I look positively russian. And not a trace of make up upon my face. Yet somehow I looked more captivating then...more sure footed and courageous. More sure of what this world had to offer. Or more tellingly~more sure in what I had to offer.