To: Sarah Joyce Crimson*                                                     8th July 1943                                                  

A man in a gray suit has captured my heart, mother
Along with the tie, of course
Surrounding plants would've died
At his gaze and grace

Armored charm and wide toothed smile
His last name could've might as well been poise  
I don't know what it is about him, mother
But his gentle crinkled eyes certainly isn't  

His voice is as flattering as the lullaby you once sang
The tone itself symbolizes warmth and stability
Undiscovered treasure in the midst of all volumes
It is home I feel closest to when I catch a glimpse of it in my ear

I don't know whether to feel astonished or quivered
By all means, that'd be deemed as eerie
But you once said when a man one day turned my cheeks bright pink
It sure could only mean one thing

It is unreliably evident not to notice me blush
It is even more apparent not to notice his blunt stare
Sending chilly shivers down my spinal cords
Activating fondness I'd never in a million years imagine I'd sense

If only you were here to see for yourself
How proud I'd make you, indeed
You said one day I'll be able to marry, mother
Well, this day isn't as far planned as it once seemed  

                                                       ­               *From: Christine Louise Crimson

After I make my way back
To old 1947 New York skyscraper city
In a time machine jalopy
The same color as a baby blue sky
With leather seats and chrome wheels
I would like to stop
In an old burger restaurant
Stinking of grilled meat and
Marlboro smoke and the stench
Of permed hair
To order a burger and salted fries
And I would like to stop just once
And stare out the wide window
Into a busy New York street
At the beautiful women
And the beautiful men
While I sip my coca cola
Out of a chilled glass bottle
And you **** on a gorgeous red
Cherry straight from the top of your
Cold vanilla milkshake