Once upon a whistle
And a glance
A young girl danced
Tersely,
For whe was lovely
And she knew it
And a little was enough.
And with a very few
She would lie
Lips elastic on lips.
Her young round breasts
Caressed
Swelled
And rose and fell in contentment.
Eternity is a hard tune
To whistle
For one has only thirty-two teeth,
Until they become gravestones
Sighing in relief.
- Sitaram (written 1965)