You stand in the morning rain
Wearing your plastic shoes and faux
Fur wrap

I am baffled
And I press against the windowpane
to glimpse

Raindrops pelt
and my skin is cold

Like a peacock the black umbrella opens
and you light a cigarette in the rain
(the umbrella held in the crook of your arm)
You are a demon I am sure of this
Smoke pouring from your nostrils and
Dark red lips

You do not wave
but a taxi stops
You turn with some sudenness
towards the window that I watch from


My eyes catching yours
In the cold rain  
Dark green things they are
Peering deeply
Peeling back
Each layer
and a whisper only I can hear
"Is this a dream?"

The taxi door shuts
And the headlights
Through puddles the tires
Churn