in frisco

in frisco,
who remembers
your visit?
the night scented
with coffee,
vivid with
nut-lavender;
my head spun
in wonder:
“someone has left
his crown?”
... someone’s laughter...
“and his
gloves:
smell
the dove-skin!
was he naked?”

you hurry away,
the sidewalk twists
inward;
a roguish boy
stops me:
“did you drop this?”

5.feb.06