Her

try to remember        what she wore         in the morning

her name in a song        carnival sounds

after the shaved ice       a glimpse         of her thigh

the shade of her lipstick         matches her scar

the oddness         of her garments        when it rained

an invented memory         of losing her number

her name worked in silver        hangs from her neck

the color of the makeup        covering her scars

melt down the candle        to mold her face

her half-empty glass        among all the others

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2 thoughts on “Her

  1. susandiri says:

    tres cool! & nice to see the MELISSA book found out last night. this piece is as loaded as fiction-but-poetry. congratulations!

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