She Was

Long-legged captain-mistress

Of all my small, dumb thunders,

The rock and the roll,

Posting forbidden, giddy-passions

Into the purpled neon

And smoke passages.

She stoked the flame-blonde fires

Beneath my intensity desires.

Where is she now?

I still remember waking up

At three in the morning,

Smiling at how the earth shook.

12/8/13

Related articles

• 48 Hours in Las Vegas, A Photo Narration (angloadventure.com)