she
ran the sea at twenty-three then took over the sky
she
danced just like a windswept leaf that violently blew by
butterfly
biscuits barely bake unless you baste and burn
by
the time she turned forty-two love’s lessons she had learned
so
many guys had come to lie with grace before a meal
but
once their flesh was satisfied dessert did not appeal
i
came along and wrote her songs, reciting poetry
but
weary wounds from all the wrongs would not let her believe
she
said i was a harlequin so i looked up the word
a
jester who seeks his own ends, not some romantic nerd
but
i obsessed, yes without rest as beauty makes me do
and
oh the beauty she possessed had left me tried and true
for
poetry poured out of me and slowly wore her down
she
kissed me on a sunset beach with flowers for a crown
i
wrote “beauty” in the wet sand which waves all washed away
said,
“i’ll still be holding your hand even when beauty fades”
she
took a flower from her hair said, “they’re forget-me-nots”
and
placed it between both her breasts, a coquette flowerpot
*
