Go home!

Go home while the lamps are burning!

The sun is rising to its wake,

Softly cresting over the novelty

That was my evening.

Novelty, if that is life,

I should not hear more of it.

Oh! How he kisses up 

And

Down her arms

While she cannot even 

Kiss her tomorrow

The burning smoke on a balcony,

The breaking of the unintelligible

With an amusement of the

Casanova

That I think, looking past his shoulder,

That little idea of perfection,

In her stillness,

Her pretty stillness;

Her look is simply

A dream

That I long for her while she is clasped

To this fellow’s trust and admiration,

All the while, I wish to believe her

For believing him.

Usurping her mind, he has time to 

Hold her, paw her, clasp her, 

Kiss her

That I may shiver and be spectator

To be coy and small in the face of it,

That I walk down the streets,

While they walk to the routine

Of getting nowhere.

I cannot get her out,

She will not want;

We are, all of us,

Living in a dream