Where did Ilina go?
From the cloistered spaces of amateur emancipations
She walked with a man wearing a strange coat.
Some sundry roles were played
As the city swirled in urban smoke
Oozing from their shared cigarettes.
Pre-fornication conversation rose and fell,
Like his breath on her misty neck
Very occasionally, very lightly.
She laughed, she sang, and stared at the burnished moon,
Until the last cigarette was tossed aside in carefree flanerie-
Where did Ilina go?
Disappearing behind Russian smiles,
Of pretentious pen-names
To write some letters, perhaps in remembrance.
