What do I know of that young woman...
She never dared..and I was not allowed.
Hellion drained at last courageous
Holding on to remnants of electric beauty
Dying of neglect
Perhaps..in spite of duty.
And I suppose (to some sublime extent)
All that is known of her
Would make good kindling
Around suburban campfires glowing tastefully,
Where discontented matrons, still and all
Practice that much maligned art
Behind a well dressed back - or two.
And here I am in a large bed waiting
Listening to the heartbeat of a ticking clock:
Lonely - lonely - lonely
Waiting for my nails to dry...
A pretty vanity left unsaid;
My favorite color,