She smiles like a Cheshire Cat,
And it makes me laugh to think of how she sways her hips, walking away while looking back, like a professional acrobat.

"Live with me! I'll cook for you!"

The cologne
      of her ex
             on her skin,
                  
as she coos
          into my ear,
                    "Oops,
                            
                              dropped my phone."

She bends her neck to let me see her *******
(which jiggle as she giggles at a joke I never said)

I don't trust her. Not at all.

But I'm flattered by her clear attempt to sell me in the mall.
Maybe it's Maybelline,
Maybe it's methamphetamine
(Or the bruises on her arm)
Or her pupils stretched with a line,
Of black paint past her felonies,
Past the "no trespassing" sign.
Past her oceanic iris,
Curving to her brow,
Like a coy, reserved, egyptian lynx,
Poised while on the prowl.
Maybe it's her melancholy glance,
Sent off towards some memory,
Of a redwood where she kissed-
How she looks away when she sits,
To my left,
her eyes, motioning
to some tempting offscreen thing...

I don't know what drug she worships,
But it's got her shivering.

"I love you like I love rock music
           (But keep your clothes on)
I love you like I love the Steinhart aquarium,
           (But keep your clothes on),
I love you like I love the cinema,
           (But thanks for the compliment)"

I ****** you dry
even when you were wrong
self-righteously

even when your words
snatched the fray
of my wind-whipped
stained white skirt
and reeled me into
the wood chipper

I wanted to choke
on every grain
of your black salt

relish and smother
in the undiluted flavor

and I savored

every last
bitter bit

oh how i would love
coffee and a cigarette
they are both so lovely
and romantic
they make for perfect pictures
but one of these
killed my cousin.
oh how romantic

The flower droops,
showing its true colors.
Leaves fall to the floor,
all shriveled and brown.
The little old vase was all that was left,
It's steardy glass held in the water
to keep the flower alive.
Around the rim, cracks began to form.
Nothing was done to fix them,
they were little, they didn't matter.
But today, they grew large.
The vase broke, water spilled everywhere
and the flower was left,
laying on the floor,
*helpless

Pit-pat goes the rain
Falling all around.
From under my umbrella
I watch it hit the ground.

Splish-splash go the puddles
As I come stomping through.
My boots keep me nice and dry,
And my umbrella too.

Outside it's wet and drippy
As rain falls from the sky,
But underneath my umbrella
I stay cozy and dry.

And though the sky is cloudy
And the sun has hidden her face,
Under my own little umbrella
I have a happy, pleasant place.