He blows smoke into her screen, figurative for
"Let's break the rules." Mr Jones and Isabelle,
kisses for her legs and hips and too many secrets for
sanity. Look, girl, I like you, but I love her,
don't go changing like the weather, there's whisky
right beside my bed, and I'm not afraid to drink it.
All's fair, he says, because she has galaxies in her eyes
when she's crying, and he needs somebody to catch his
pieces if they fall. She's as pretty a face as any.