the cellar

I saw you the other night at Pinter's birthday party. 
You were mostly obscured by a strategically placed box of cereal and an out of tune piano; but when you threw your head back gently to laugh fondly at Meg & Petey, the lamp above the piano illuminated your face. Damn, you really are beautiful when you're in the moment.
Like that time you were down on your knees asking for someone to be your Lady Windermere, or was that your Mrs. Erlynne? And when Stan was once again being all tragic around the piano, you seemed to be looking straight at me. Then you stared as I walked past you smoking your cigarette. 
It should be a felony for people to smoke so heavily yet still own such flawlesstranslucentskin.


I saw you yesterday as the six-fingered man; and, darling Timothy, when you saw me laughing with glee during your sword fight, I swear by all the heavens you replied with a little smile back.