Guttering flames of her red dress
blazed into the hours after midnight,
where she danced on the furthest table
She could have been the train window girl
who peeled me from the platform
placed her ticket in the pocket astride my heart,
our destination was that summer
where we made love in the spaces between rain
and bed sheets became our skin
Still dancing, droplets of sweat river’ed
glistened as red wine poured over diamonds,
her lips sang, it seemed, in braille
The only distance between me and her is together
and now I sit on bed edge
like a blackbird on the wire
just watching the skies,
waiting for the snow to fall in September
