I stare at walls and see her there

A flower-printed love affair

Her azure-striped and plastered hair

Are cracked but perfect, everywhere.

Her skin of beige, it ripples soft

Across my palms when I get lost

I feel her smooth and supple skin

When I can't think and need to sin.

But here is now, and now is then

I'm staring at my walls again

Each one reminds me of the face

Of fallen angels barred from grace.