In the sparkle of ink on shoulders
smiling out of fingers
Twirling braided hair like a pensive
dervish
Seated in St. Joseph’s bar room
patio of New Orleans
Bearing memories like flares at
starlight
Blending in with the fireworks of
the dawning Fourth of July
As if nudity was startling, but did
not have to be
To share deeper than some might in
the twilight of twinkle
Pimm’s Cup and Old Fashioned
drinking tall glasses
Legs facing positions as attentive
as intrapersonal language
Blue shirt and blue eyes trying but
to be as one is
Flat shoes and the show biz blurring
in the idea
Of what one is supposed to say when
a woman shows up fifteen minutes late
Holden says
“If a girl looks swell when she
meets you, who gives a damn if she’s late? Nobody.”
Pair down the pay down of
expectations of mazes now
Winding in minds of the timing to
say what might
Alert to the journal of numbers
scribed into timing and finding
What one is to say will be or not,
logic never pries the locks
Only timing in smiling and phasing
in pacing
So it is a beautiful introduction
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