He told me I was beautiful.
Now I am nothing more than a faded picture in a dusty picture frame,
Forgotten in his bedside drawer.
Flittering like flames past, I wait,
Lipstick on his cheek and collar,
Winter river air blushing my cheeks.
We rowed across the river that day in his grandfather’s rickety dory,
The tranquility of squawking birds and gentle breezes
Numbing to his lips upon my neck.
He told me I deserved better,
But I deserved him.