Her laughs fades into the warm drone of the shower
I pull off the Chinese lettered lamp covering my face
and toss it in on the naked hotel water bed.
I look down at my knee high socks, red stripes
and pull the long neglected menthol to my lips,
inch length ash, crumbling, falling to the stained carpet.
She left the door open, the curtain
I see her fading reflection in the bathroom mirror.
I bury the cig between Ecclesiastes 1 and 5:2,
and twist the right end of my mustache
staring at the image the steam intends to obscure.
the censor finally wins, i brush off the rice paper and wire
and fall to the bed, riding the rubber ripples
till they fade into a gentle rock and wait for her return.
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