| Two glasses on a glass-top table. |
| Lights are low,
|
| The ashtray’s full. |
| he talks of all his conquests--letters
|
| Ringed with hearts and crosses. |
| He left them in the
|
| Drawer (at Hotel Noir)--unanswered, yet he read
|
| Them for her time and time again. |
| .. She looked
|
| Clean through him and told him how she loved
|
| White horses, riding on a swing and laying in a Cornfield on a warm summer’s night. |
| She’d watch
|
| The dancing lights. |
| Alone but never lonely--until
|
| Now. |
| He ordered whisky but the waiter walked clean
|
| Through him. |
| He sadly shook his head, and lit his
|
| Fifteenth cigarette. |
| .. and slowly, surely pictures for-
|
| Med he never could forget. |
| .. Loretta sent him sea
|
| Shells, Henrietta sent a rose, and Margaretta said
|
| They’d marry in a letter that he’d never answered
|
| (left it in the drawer at Hotel Noir. . .) And she said
|
| How she loved the sea at full moon. |
| Running down
|
| A silver beach with silver ribbons trailing from her
|
| Hands. |
| She found a doorway in the sand where
|
| She’d store away her stones. |
| Precious stones that
|
| Could be diamonds, just because they sparkled in Rain. |
| And there she’d sleep, and there she’d
|
| Dream. |
| And there she died. |
| The tide rolled
|
| Backwards and it dried and left a headstone made
|
| Of salt. |
| The warm breeze turned to steam. |
| And even
|
| The vegetables screamed and screamed and
|
| Screamed. |
| .. He stretched his hand out just to touch
|
| Her--but she said she had to leave. |
| .. |