chipped china cups stained
with cherry red prints from your lip stick.
the way you swing your body languidly
through the wispy smoke
hanging in the air like a reunion of ghost;
always enchanted me so.
here the graves lie of all the lovers whose
hearts were severed by your gentle fingers
cutting out the sacred testimonies wedged
brightly in every heart.
they stained the earth,
for they had something
to give
but although your eyes open
with surprising brilliance,
how can anything you see
hold meaning?