Priscilla

You'd gamble everything after, your friends say, including the Easter calendar, I wonder kissing your lips, watching cormorants in the bay, roll in tide like ships, ever think of me ha ha, salt and cologne not far away, preening my wings at the bar, do you miss those trips, smoking or kneeling to pray, going out as you came in, burning at lovers’ remarks, what an image they make, but soon drift away la la, you’ll give that page a skip, a search for time delayed, words are always thin, the beauty of your face.