|
I was looking for a court to hold |
|
Hard-pressed woman, unimpressed, she'd heard it all |
|
She said, "I like your face, that should be enough |
|
Look, it's raining like a film noir" |
|
Hard-pressed woman listened as I carried on |
|
I offered up my coat, she offered up her shirt |
|
Waiting for the train, ventilation blows up her skirt |
|
Hooked me with a wit as clean as glass |
|
Hard-pressed woman with a hair across her ass |
|
The singing of her keys, the clicking of a latch |
|
She said, "This could be my best advice" |
|
Hard-pressed woman pouring something over ice |
|
No lotions in a bath, no powders when it's done |
|
No paper on the panes to filter out the morning sun |
|
As it settles down, you're more eccentric every year |
|
A microscopic view of something I could never get near |
|
I woke up and she was sound asleep |
|
Hard-pressed woman softly pressing up to me |
|
A smoky mess of hair, the scratchiness of feet |
|
A muffled car alarm screaming in the empty street |
