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Poem	High-heels were struggling with a full-length dress So that, between the wind and the terrain, At times a shining stocking would be seen, And gone too soon. We liked that foolishness. Also, at times a jealous insect's dart Bothered out beauties. Suddenly a white Nape flashed beneath the branches, and this sight Was a delicate feast for a young fool's heart. Evening fell, equivocal, dissembling, The women who hung dreaming on our arms Spoke in low voices, words that had such charms That ever since our stunned soul has been trembling.
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