Did you roam the smoldering squares

Did you roam the smoldering squares
With me, hot, homeless and dazed,
Beneath the huge moon – you, who dares
To measure me by the days?

Inside the tavern, cursed by the plague,
While the frenzied waltz still lingered,
Did your drunken grip ever break
My slender and brittle fingers?

And have you heard me whisper as I drift
to sleep? - O, smoke and ashes! – Never?!
What could you know about me if
We never slept or drank together?

December 7, 1916