Your Gentle Gestures

You tottered against my side
In black fur ankle boots
And sang: “O Lord,
Won’t you buy me
A Mercedes Benz.”
As we crossed to the car
Of a mutual friend

I witnessed, half unwillingly,
Your shining face,
Your unbound hair,
The metal belt around your hips,
Your tiny lips,
Your jeans, blue as the sky in spring,
Your short suede jacket
With matching mittens,
Dark red,
Your gentle gestures, luminous,
My bearish body
Looming over us.