lets them come. Always hosting,
no walk of shame or discomfort,
even when uninvited guests
spill champagne on the sofa, she
graciously smiles. Someone will
clean her up, grateful for the chance
to undress and impress her. She
seems tired, working the room and
nibbling the ear of whomever
will pick up the check tonight.
She remembers the ones
who really touched her, Miller
and Hemingway and Anais Nin,
how they captured and left her.
You don't need to hear a song again
if you know the beats by heart.
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