The girl at the doll house.
They say the whores are impatient at the doll house
where he has been a visitor.
He remembers a girl whose hands distracted him.
Her hands were long, soft, and supple
as if she cared for them.
She said, will you come back?
And he answered, no.
Nonetheless, he thinks of her impatience
lay hot, malignant in her white hands, and she grew old.