Moonlight

Listen to these takes from the dark;

A mistress stranded in the park,

underneath the larch she's laying face down

on the ground without a sound,

her causal shoes and straps are nowhere to be found

what's going down.

How can this be respectfully, but yes she's history,

So many things in this world that she'll never see.

But the mistress seems thight holding her purse to the right

deep in the moonlight at night.

In the late night mist a dead cold body lays adrift,

standing bold you stubble over now and take a whiff.