Your silver lines of skin and old flesh
are nothing short of beautiful
I need you to be so to be real

So incline towards me and depart not
for the old school romance
of apfelstrudel, coffee and cigarettes

You will be everything that I want that you do not want
So what do you hide Sir beneath the insouciance
and the smoke that skirts around your face
Her cursory veil
to shield you from what you try to keep away