The two women in his life

One had long black hair

One had long red hair

One he kicked out of the car during an argument

The other was the one kicking him out

One he lived with

One he married

One he left behind

One left him behind

The first was named Jasmin, like the flower or the oil. A name found in gardens and hung over arches

The other named Grace, notes of eternity laced her name. The softness of a ballet dancer intertwined in a single syllable

He should’ve stayed with the flower. I believe she loved him more