Her scarlet dress is blowing all around his knees.
He's smiling as he's tripping.
Skipping.
Straight into a love affair.
That he doesn't want.
And he doesn't care.

She's love's lonely widow.
An open window on the world.
Heart cold.
Rich feelings.
She's really different to most.
Differences too many to count on one hand.
She's never revealing.

His issues flow to the street side beat.
His metronome rocks fancifully.
His pendulum's swings in the wrong direction.
A direction that nobody ever dares mention.

He's kicking at kerb-stones with dancing feet.
He borrowed her dress, it looked good on him.
Probably would have been better in blue.
It blew up in the wind, as you kicked off your shoes.
Love's lonely widow and the gay guy met.
They thought each other sweet.
(C) LIVVI