Saturday, July 02, 2005

three

I loved a girl wild and free
who loved in return but not just me.
“You suit me best,” she said
“On a Tuesday in my bed.”

She loved six other men
and then

I loved a girl sweet and tender
in gowns soft and white and lavender
as the Hydrangea growing along the way.
If she loved me or not, I cannot say.

A girl like a flower
but until my final hour

I love the girl who stands over me
full of fire and iniquity,
explaining where she learned the trick
of concealing the arsenic.

She loved me with poison
and there won’t be another one.

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