Schweigaards gate ninety-three, ring three times, then once for Dee
Who was Dee, to you, to me, a bitter silence, or youth set free?
This isn’t real, you might have said, when strangers whispered, Where is red?
No longer waiting at her door, no longer fucking on her floor.

She was once like you and me, before she dared to just be she.
And we all knew her and her flair, but never looked behind her stare
They said her beauty had to fade, but Dee endured, as she was made
She drew you in like summer’s wind, and 'fore you knew it, you had sinned.

Sculpted strong, she spun her leg, she pinned you down, and watched you beg
She rode like rain and fucked like fire, and caught you in your own desire.
I once was virgin, young; a fool, but Dee was sure, and never cruel
She took me gently as I was, and still, she fucks me raw because.

I lost count, my dearest Dee, how many nights were you with me
You made me feel the only one, and when you left, the light was gone.
They whispered Dee had lost her grace, that lovers faltered in her gaze
But Dee to me was never cold, a flame that never did grow old.

If you ever saw her there, on her bed, and without care
She was never like no other, never hid herself in bother
Once you were trapped by cunt and breast, you would never again find rest
When she whispered, “Come back soon,” you’d blink and ask, “This afternoon?”

Dee to me was burning hair, a wicked grin, a hungry stare
Did you behold her, or only pay, where did she vanish on that day?
She’d leave you breathless, broke of cash, but never left a mark or rash
For that was Dee to you and me, so simple, clean, and always free.

I once lay whimpering on her floor, then came a knock upon her door
She smiled so softly down at me, “My appointment, meant for three.”
That last time I watched her flame, my friend and I both played her game
But Dee never said it wouldn’t last, never told us we were past.

And now she’s gone, and so are we, no longer young, no longer free
Yet still she lingers in my head, between my wife and me in bed
Some nights I stand out in the rain, idling silently, in pain
Schweigaards gate ninety-three, I pray three times, and once.

for Dee