-Tonight-
on the subway,
dark seeps into city slow,
the way a drop of ink
-in water-
turns light to shadow.
I fall in love.
-He sits-
grey and crumbling
in a tattered jacket,
a fleathery old thing,
-but you see-
that he is still splendid.
I fall in love.
-Do you-
think it's strange
to love a man whose mottled crown
smells of an old hat box,
and is tufted with eider down?
Perhaps you think
you are not the type.
Oh, but you are.
Time will show you.
-Look there-
He's unzipping his jacket.
To reveal the whiskered nose
of a blush-colored cat.
A pink and withered rose.
She's hungry.
I recognize that desire.
She'd like to climb
inside him and relight the old fire.
I fall in love.
Her pink tongue
rasps across his thumb,
a rough and whiskery wire
-thrisk-thrisk-thrisk-
oh!- the thrum of her unquenchable desire.
I fall in love,
will you?
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