When I got divorced
it was my mother
who cried herself
to sleep. Nobody wants
to grow up to
be an old lady. Venus
won't cross my path
again this year. I think
of Ada and her lady
horses; I think of Joni
and her constant
stranger. What was that
lyric? It seems we all
live so close to that line
and so far from
satisfaction.
I lick the salt from
my fingers and recall
the first time I kissed him.
I was 18, he belonged
to someone else.
Comments