Real Estate

Fingerprints on frozen windows Night of wonder Avenue of lost souls She waits..maybe his shadow will play the "game of shapes" on walls of skyscrapers The street is as naked as her heart She knows she's not so good looking on the outside but what a rhapsody of soul... even the marine layer cries with joy on balconies of roses. I hold her tears in my little, pink jewelry box I lost the key to wind up the spring of the little ballerina inside I go and visit the place with windows but there are no more fingerprints.. The place was sold...