Conversation slows to dust
In the air disturbed drifting
Ghosts of the year I kissed
her and now
Jealousy without knowing
Ever asking after hearts
Answers winding
in my arms
Held protesting soft and true
Early morning red or white
Losing lengths of myself
in her hair
Washed out paintings left away
Locked in luggage for a while
Sometimes sitting and remember
when she rings
On occasions she hints at
Other passions which will pass
Nothing serious she says
how 'bout you?
