Smoke.
Broken glass.
Paper on the floor.
Ignored.


The sillouettes move slowly.
In rythm.
Slowly still.

Ashes.
Strewn bottles.
Bulbs gone off.
Ignored.

Hands that meet fondly.
With feet
in sync.

Fondle her now
on the bottle you stand.
The ash on her face
you wipe with your hand.

She'l touch you softly
as you blow out the smoke.
The light has gone off now,
but the paper still shows

you and her standing
on a cold dark night.
He'l see the page tomorrow
of a night where he lost sight.