She told me once
that her sex was awful
and she didn’t like people
enough to bother changing her mind.
Cute, with a torn up pair of jeans,
scuffed knees,
drinking beer with the boys
and saying “Fuck” a lot.
Quick to make a fist,
but didn’t make amends.
Every man she met
was just a sun drenched vampire.
Always rich
and trying to change her,
until she’d lose interest
and their money wasn’t fun anymore.
A British guy called her “Cunt”
and she kicked him in the nuts
and broke his nose.
She always had a mean right.
Fiercely loyal
and beautiful
and self-owned;
I never once saw her beg.
Never heard her ask,
even when I knew she was alone
and missed her folks.
I’d call,
but she always told me
she was alright.
I worried a lot that last winter.
And then Spring came
and it was like a dark cloud
was taken from her.
When I saw her in June,
Her blond hair was long
and she was wearing really nice shoes;
like designer ones,
and a dress that must have cost a fortune.
We caught up for a few moments
and said we’d get together for coffee.
That was two years ago.
She left without a trace
and my heart broke a little,
Then about a week ago,
there she was
on television.
HG – 2017
