I've walked this road
so many times 
my feet remember the crumbling cement
caressing the heel of my shoe.

The last time I traveled
it was morning, colder than this
Clock strikes quarter past 12
I remember this street.

The first time we fucked in the park
on a bed of our clothes
we hung condoms from the tree
and called them Christmas decorations.

And then we "made love"
three months later
when I came over
to say good bye.

I cried, you kissed me
I tasted my tears on your lips
I tasted your sweat between my thighs
my blue collared angel.

The next day 
we fucked again and
it was cheap it was not
beautiful.

I felt dirty, the grime beneath
your fingernails seeped into my pores
fell into my womb
tainted now.

And when I told you I loved you
you pretended not to hear
bending naked, barrel chested
over your guitar.

I pulled on my jeans
and left with a dollar thirty five for the bus
all I have left of you now
because I walked home.

Our love, cheapened, now
in the sunlight of sweat and tears
and that, my love, my friend, my life
is why I haven't called.

(c) 2000 by Laura. All rights reserved.