Women everywhere are applying lipstick
surreptitiously, as if their hands had just glided up on their own,
fluttering shades of mauve and chartreuse onto casual mouths
Gilded ceiling and marble floors
shiny with the dull glow of thousands of footsteps marking the same paces,
stopping suddenly in front of the same forgotten volume
Precisely every three minutes a man to my right
lowers his book slightly to glance over my work
as he stands up, a note flutters to the table:
Take nothing
Leave it all
Watches and umbrellas find their rightful owners
This day, too, will return in time
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