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As shadows fall on rooms and on walls,
Where water drips and voices call,
The faces pale and bodies turn,
With hands that touch and hearts that yearn.
Statues of skin of brown and sable,
With arms that lie across the tables.
Smoke that curls and licks and crawls,
Through open doors and down dark halls.
Where hands and legs are intertwined,
And people fill their mouths with wine.
Sitting within red-painted rooms,
Filled with smoke and lit like tombs,
Were people of ivory and marble and glass,
Blinking and smiling as I passed.