The pair we make
My heels ringing on the pavement
Your arm gallantly offered
Steadying me on our traverse
The ground is wet, as is the air
Not that we notice
Laughter hiding in our conversation,
Our heads bent toward each other to share a secret
We are dazzling, and out of place
Our dress more suited to a scene from a film noir
Fine coats to keep the damp at bay,
Topped off with smart millinery
We care not
This is who we are, and what, and we love it
The modern world can keep its low-slung jeans, and Jäger bombs
We'll stick to jazz, and gin,
And just maybe find people like us.