In a green dress she dancednlike a net in the waternswaying off the coastnof South CarolinannLike a pickled princess dancing,nLike the lost queen of Irelandnlike a story told again,nlike a new best friendnnwith silly drunken chatternit was all I could do to look at hernand when the wedding was overnI had to get out of therennand the night air was coldnlike whiskey in your throatnand I thought I saw her everywherenas I bicycled homennno mingling of limbs,ncause she moved to England nno mingling of limbs,ncause she moved to England