1923

I fell in love with a French mime-girl in 1923
And as enamored as I was with her, she also was with me
We would row down the Seine in her palm-traced box
Wait 'till night had come awake and kiss beneath the docks
Our skirts would swish and gloves would mix, never beneath the sun
And when I'd leave she'd mime a tear trickling down her cheek, just one
The way we would communicate, no one really understands
How her throat-strings never said "I love you"
But I heard it through her hands
How she didn't speak a whisper
But I could hear what she said
How she moved her hands at lightning speed
But I never was misled
How when I had to board the train 
In 1932
And she kissed me slow 
I knew to whisper
"I'll miss you too"