She had an Asian face
And I'll remember her that way.

There's the rumble,
As train track lights
Penetrated black night,
By a gutter a flutter of outdoor wind
I saw her walking alone,
Clinging to her bones.
At first, I thought she some vampire.
Then I saw holy water drip from her eyes.
An apparition, shaped like a man
Walked out, under a leafy shroud.
"Come inside?" Sounded out the shout.
"Hurry up!."

There was a short pause,
Between seconds and eternity.
He was already in the crooked house
On a crooked street,
Her silhouette so hesitant.
Then she began her retreat
To that crooked place
I know not within.
To that crooked cave
Or that crooked grave,
I let her pass without a phrase.
There's the rumble
Of another train.