you always said, and here you are, lovely,
in this silent home movie filmed
by your older brother, your curly dark hair
chic in its snood, your tailored peplum
suit's flounce neat around your small hips,
every inch of you nineteen and dream-stricken.
And him, no wonder you believed.
Oh, movie-star handsome, blond and slim,
green-eyed, that Air Corps uniform,
the leather flyer's jacket and silk scarf.
He came bearing orchids and what could you
do but dance in your high platforms, giddy
with your first whiskey sours, your first
maraschinos, sickly sweet in the glass.