Nora Jones to John Ashbery. The world blazes on.
You ruined me now, though I liked it
Now I'm ruined, Your chocolate eyes like buttons in piles.
"Whose touch at nightfall must now be
To keep their promise? Misery
Starches the host's one bed, his hand
Falls like an axe on her curls:
"Come in, come in! Better that the winter
Blaze unseen, than we two sleep apart!"