That was the last time I ever saw her
through a shop window, sleeves to her elbows.
I walked past and kept on walking
and lit a smoke with my hands shaking.
She was something else
A few summers ago
we spent weeks in her room
just having sex and listening to jazz
and that was the life.
But I didnt know at the time
Blinds drawn at twelve noon
with daylight pouring through
projecting lines on her body.
Move on, move on, move on
Smoke your smoke and move on
I should go back to
see if shes still there
standing like a statue
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