Out between the balconies a dress Still drying off the wet; The flowers have not yet Raised their lowered heads back toward the sun, And the floral patterns run Down hems carefully spun. And when she lays back down, you won't be in the room. A passerby won't look beneath his feet At the way the windows weep From the clothesline to the street. She says, Who'll notice me unpin it Or the song that my heart had kept so long For the right man and I was wrong? It was a shame - do you remember? It was a shame - do you remember her? Did your hands get raw from trying to scrub the stain With only suds going down the drain? A streak of scarlet tucked away. And in the mirror do you even recognize The double-circles of your eyes? Pull up the covers, blankets white. (Zephaniah 3: 14 - end)