Place of Hopes

From "Modern Love And Other Poems" With delighted, overflowed My fiancé swept away her hair Over her face; I don’t know if her hair Is dry or wet; but I just wanted To see what it so important For her to be that way with her hair. With mechanical gestures She found her hair again. And with a slowly pace of power Still her hair drop dead! Worry does not let her to see that expensive Drawing was just a singly minded, and she witted Or twisted it backward. Somberly, through the sunlight She did not hold that damned hair for a while. Again, suddenly, her hands buried into uneasiness fear: Monday...Wednesday...Friday...Sunday. With an useful stupor Of contentment but everything still the same. Darling! So much to say... I say nothing. Would you look at me! And her hair is falling dead again. Up and down, dead, me and her! Dreadful hard To hid again her expensive face Dry or wet it does not matter I still love her.