I would rather not have frowned at the frau
She was my friend
Slatternly, frowzy, bedgraddled gal
I always wondered how and why she liked me
Like a boy who could be psyched out by bosoms.
I wasn't
I felt it peasant like.
Like a tike feeling in the dirt for flukes and rakes
Rake, she said she thought what I was.
Which would mean I could make her heart buzz
and would mean we could be one another.
Another life left to lonesome fevers in panting fogs.
I matter, so does she.
Dark matter.
Slathered in holes, stolen goals.
God we were the same.
It's a shame we were the same.