Last night by star-light, unafraid,
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she rode the city's broad paternal shoulders.
Sky-high, moon-drunk, unashamed
Caution held its tongue, and flesh forgave.
in a Cubist landscape of brownstone roofs
turned a many-chimneyed face
and winked benign blind eyes
at her nine blind lives.
So, on a dim-lit rooftop
through martini's muzzy prism
she watched his charming white-winged lies
dance pas-de-hubris among the Eschered eaves
and bent her neck to his courtly greed
when he claimed there was nothing else
in the world to touch.
Mutely complicit, mired in lies
it was easier to trust than flee,
to kiss than cry.
Easier to sleep as entangled strangers.
Shudder awake at 5am,
slip from the sheets of a shabbied soul,
gather up clothes and belated shame,
scurry home on the first-light half-lit train.
A tawdry, smudged bohemian
misplaced in morning's rain.
She'll wait now
til the stains on last night's skin
have worn away.
Til her pale wax shell of self-respect
has crystallised again.
Then, forgetting 5am,
she'll lean too close once more
to midnight's flame.