I wrote you a note last night at the jazz club--

I wish you thought I was
beautiful,
captured in the light of
your six dollar beer, my
ten dollar wine, one time, one time,
and everything is
everything
is lost,
as the jazz flows
fluid through
saxophones, butter on the crumbling toast
of my
candlelight...
it's in my eyes
it's in my eyes, can't you see
through the smoke of my
complacent
guise--the notes
are eating
me alive.
As the beat
competes,
I catch your eyes--
but I'm losin'
every
time.