My darling,
Your half-crimped hair
Collapsed, lazily
Onto my shoulders
And I held you as you wept, so gently
Caressing my face with your tears.

Smoke-rings
Are a wonderful backdrop
To a half-remembered kiss
And a well remembered conversation
We talked of nothing
And found all the answers

Cherie
You wore the prettiest clothes
Or so they looked on you
And now I see you as I should have seen you then
Nabokov's tears, Dostoevsky's ideal
And all the poignancy of Gunter Grass
In your smile.

Is there anything so
Hopelessly tender
As your eyes looking into mine?
I was at home screaming
And drinking myself to death,
You were on the town
Drinking until you came alive.