Serenade

What about a woman
without trappings, what about
walking along walks that
are no more, what about my
writing that is not published
anymore, anywhere?
What about a woman without
trappings whom I can take
along walks that are no
more like distant
heartbreaks? What about my
writings that cannot
express themselves?
What about my women
whom I do not meet
anymore? What about my
woman whose name
I do not know and
whose lips haunt me in
my nearby heartbreaks?