Stadium lights infiltrate my eyes from your tenth floor home
The heat raises my body temperature, I want to take off my clothing.
Plastic flowers line the tables and window sills.
Live plants hang from hooks in the ceiling.

I remember the curved green couch on the Park Terrace.
Black squirrels eating peanuts from my palm, and that of your husband.
Chocolate candy coated, tuna fish and the unforgettable scent;
Of which I can not explain to you now.

Your bad breath, a slight whisker from your cheek.
The bluest eyes, like mine; that speak love.
And I still try to find 'a nice girl.'
I'll let you know when I have, or when I did.

Your sagging breasts and bulging blind eye.
The sweetest woman who knew my brain waves.
A smile I'll never forget when you counted,
One Dollar, Two Dollars.

The red knitted ribbon that hangs on my entrance.
Your senior MTA card sits in a drawer.
You lie in rest in peace beneath my earth.
In a pine wood box you dissolve. 

But I must be honest,
I don't think it was in 10S.
But only on the Terrace,
When I got my last glass
of chocolate milk.

© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.01.25.01:09:11@205HudsonNYC