We were in the back of a car, heading back to
Bard after her
twenty-first birthday at the
Santa Fe in
Tivoli. Though we hadn't dated in nearly half a year, it was perfectly
comfortable to sit with her leaning against me, half lying in my lap, because she's warm and soft, and smells like a certain kind of smoky home.
Do you still love me? Of course i do, Pauline. Will you sing me a song?
I am shy about singing with people nearby, but i sang in her ear, low and quiet:
I love Pauline, god knows i do
I'll love her 'til the seas run dry
And if Pauline should turn her back on me
I'll take morphine and die.
Pauline, good night
Pauline, good night
Good night Pauline, good night Pauline
I'll miss you in my dreams.
We climbed out into the chilly air, walked into the
dorm, and she turned left, i turned right, to our own rooms and beds.
She caused me to weep, and she caused me to mourn, she caused me to leave my home - but the very last words i heard her say was "won't you sing me just one more song?"