‘Are you the dream?’ I asked
As another couple fell into place
And danced in the shadows
And played with the shifts
In the evening’s seductive narrative
And you stayed, unmoving
On your side of the sofa
Your hands were shaking a little and the wine
Slipped out
An exotic stain, red on cream
I could not work out whether it was fear or laughter
As you had closed your eyes
Shut me out.

Tomorrow I would drop the bomb
In the bedroom of the girl who was not there
But for now I watched
The dancers
Your mouth
And the stain
Red on cream.