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.