When You Were Tracy and I Was Hepburn

Fill up my glass and I’ll fix your tie. That’s fine,
old shoe. And splash some water on that jade?
I’m fond enough of it. O cabbageface,
I’m fond of everything, even your wife.
I’ll be the one who finds you when you hit
our kitchen floor but I won’t attend the funeral.
Let’s tidy up and put away this bottle.
Duckling—give me a light?
There’s a little thing called class. And another thing
I don’t have a name for. We hardly kiss onscreen
but it’s plain to see that fully clothed we stand
in the thick of bees and honey. The telephone rings,
I dash off to answer, you let go of my hand.
And yours hangs in the air, for just a beat.