Seventeen days before Christmas, already you're looking to the East, looking for the sun awakening. The ghosts here are laughing at you.
Emily looks out my window and laughs. Her train has stopped in the desert and the sand is so warm and soft. She's wearing a Calvin Klein mini and a white blouse, her hair in a ponytail, she looks like the smartest girl in the class.
She's twenty-five and she will be forever.
Earlier tonight we walked up the street in the windy cold darkness and bought some ice cream. Cherry Vanilla, and some whipped cream and sprinkles. My hands were freezing in the night wind, but it didn't seem to bother her.
Good night, night wind.
Good night, river wind.
Goodnight forever.
