“Is my hair okay?”
I check it once more,
And it will not stay
Despite the efforts I expend.
My mouth is a desert wasteland
And all the water and mints I
Feed it sink into its sand
My futile attempts quickly die.
“Is there something caught in my smile?”
I cannot see in the darkness of my car
And the moonlight has half gone while
I wait outside on her front step.
I reach outward and ring her bell.
Her front door floats open
And she comes like a fair white nymph
Walking almost too softly to impress the fresh earth
And I forget my worries and fade into her brilliance.