I imagine these two characters meeting in some smoke filled bar in the less salubrious parts of Manhattan in the early sixties.  He a young,  idealistic poet and writer trying to make his way in the world. She once had a bit part in a movie and an off Broadway show who now makes a living out of her vague Marilyn looks on the inside of the more racy magazines circulating town.  Her heart has been broken once too often to ever let her drop her guard again.  She no longer has tears for anything. He knows nothing but the passion of love – what could go wrong?