Blue light,
a quiet room.
A hazy,
dusk of late
November's
afternoon

a haunting
silent stream of
sunset, slinking
through the door,
so **** and so
somber
too
in Autumn's evening
slur

Let me put on
a show for you-
some pearls
some bourbon,
all
à la rouge
like moonlight
threatens to
take you away
before she
slips into your
room

You look at me
and you haven't
got a clue
That there's such a
twinkling
curiosity I have,
Darling,
when it comes
to you.