So in love with a waitress from Denver and Austin,
How her beers come to him without question or payment,
How she hardly could speak without saying his name;
So in love with the motion of hips in their yearning,
How their nectars come freely and without intention,
How they arc and then hollow as light on the waves;
So in love with the feeling of being beside her,
How his hand comes to rest atop hers in the darkness,
How he trembles upon the thin edge of her dreams;
So in love with the loving that all is forgotten,
How her heart is not faithful, and time is a fire,
and how nothing that's ever existed will last.
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