I can tell by the gentle slope of the hallway
as I wade on through leftover luggage
and by the way the fluorescent lights
unignite
I'm just a little fool
I've got no head for physics or for maths
I've lived my life for pretty lights
glasses of trilling wines
minor crimes
of the heart.
It's not my area of expertise
but this near to the closing of it all
even I can tell our ship is sinking.
Go to, unblinking. Hike up your skirts of silk
and continue. Here, the stairs.
The rushing of the ocean
cannot overtake
the memories I have of dancing.
I know where the exits are
I can even swim.
There's no one waiting on the shore. This is the closing of the ball.
But I've got a feeling
that if I get to the top
the stars will still be smiling high above.