Her Chandelier.

Companions all, circling in the
Champagne air,
distilled by a thin chandelier.
They dance, and talk, and touch.

I fall past it all
to the tall French windows. Their
gold, flaking now, on my turn.
To a balcony, blue and Doric.
Facing the sprite evening air.

she clips the door closed
behind us. A diamond clip, outshone
in her hair.
Her gaze, preying on my shoulder;
the cool moonlight is playing
on her's.

That unseen eyebrow,
hung with suggestion.
Those lips
folded carefully to a smile...

...quiet snakes on, until eternity
dawns; I turn to see a
silver skirt wink 'round the door;
and a trail of gold dust lie
on the floor.

Then to prop up my collar
and face the moon.
Away from the plum lips and dances,
the amber drinks and rich fumes.
and the chandelier; hollow, cold and
beautiful.
Poised above a hot wealthy room.