To Little; To Late (An Ode)

When she called

over a year ago

from a hotel room

in Chicago

and say no more.

She had hips,

          not too much;

incandescent.

She was the acme

of smooth

delicate traces.

She stared

at a foreign headboard

and I withheld

the true depth

of an engrossing sentiment.

Say no more –

shades of green.