He laid emeralds in her eyes, but I'd already tried a braclet made of gold and a scarlet thread around her wrist & everything was wrong so we sang sentimental songs. Oh, how seldom we belong but how elegant our kiss. So we painted crooked lines but we danced in perfect time to a love so much refined, we know not what it is. So like the dullen wine we poor into a grief we'd known before, but never quite like this. All I know now is regret. It follows like a silhouette on the cobblestone behind me. She has nothing left to say except to innocently ask, her voice delicate as glass "Do you see me when we pass?" but I continue on my way.
