Blue light setting lotus-style in your A-frame in the countryside
Stillness slides the door and walks inside
Candle on the windowsill burnt wickless through our low-lit meal
Heaven only knows what you hide
In your blue eyes, in your sly smile

Tangerine on both your hands smells strong as the tobacco-can
Roll me up a smoke if you don’t mind
Touch me like that afternoon when your friends would all be over soon
And you said, “What the [bad word]  we’ll make the time”
With your blue eyes, in your slight smile