Only She knows me like She knows me
and I know that She knows me so well.

Poetry and it's the sixties.

I miss the permissive society,
I miss the flowers and
wearing flared jeans,
I miss the intoxication
of incense and
Andy Warhol's tin of baked beans

but back in the sixties at fifteen
girls were a mystery to me
and the only permissive that I got
was a permission
to have some more tea.