Dominique it is
Madness – pure, unadulterated
Looking, yes you looking
Out at us viewers, unknown?
Hair, your hair bouncing
In curls, your hair. A touch
Soft of cigarettes between
Lips, pink and pursed together.
Dominique… more… I
Words failing words
Like plates crumbling on floors
That collapse as you walk, float
Across so graceful –
Always so graceful, Dominique.
I, then, hoard away, lock
On rainy days under arms
Looks stored beneath floor boards –
Or, on snowy days, on mountains
Where cars park, waiting, waiting while
Your image, Dominique, is all
Askew, pounding on quiet window
Panes. I look, I do, Dominique,