“Then she said—and even now I’m a little shy to say it:

Make love to me, Ping

We had only kissed before,
so you can understand I was hesitant.

But I put my teacup down and helped her into my small bed.

She put her arms around me.

It was like a film, but with breathing for music.

When we woke, dawn had come.

She asked if I would take her home and sing.

We held hands and swayed through the alleyways.

She could hardly walk as though seeing me
had made her sick again.

Anyway, I sang a few songs. Kept her hand in mine.

In my naïveté I thought we were back together,

but the next day I went to her mother’s house
and found it empty.

A neighbor called to me from a window,

said they had gone in the night.