Wilhelmina

You whisper love, on throwaway 'phones, your ravaged face a moon, luminous as a sign, above the credit stores, you search for reasons why, an arc of pearling doves, a lifetime learning to moan, fly to those who give, in these dark cold nights, fresh linen and Cologne, makes you feel all right, you wear a hooded look, like saints conceals their bones, always swear by the book, what light shines above, or in dust remains prone, life is ever tough, your star is not alone.