You III


The street-lamps in measured steps like a beat
flush your face out of the mirror
speeding by the silent car, as divine
as a painting by the Painter supreme should be.
Between the flashing beats in shadows dark
with eyes on the glass I can testify,
tonight the mild luster of your skin
seems more divine than nectar from the stars.
A heady night; the wind is mostly still,
around the silence inside, stiller yet.
Still sitting alone in the empty car
even when you are gone awhile,
I can smell your mellow scent and
I can feel a joyous glow shimmering, in the air.

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