Karen

What sometimes chimes, with her need to celebrate, is written in the sky, she sees the creep of moon, regular as the five and dime, lilac nights coming soon, she won't even mind, if she hesitates, and laughs at reasons why, men want women to use, to heighten their taste, someone with her views, it makes them feel fine, not reprobates, like kids who drink wine, a girl who's still shy, with a sense of place, slapping hands that wander behind, her love undulates.