Free Verse

This Girl

this girl’s eyes glance like stones

across my small pale room

filled only with a bed

covered by sky blue sheets

and the perfume of a woman

whose fingers played silly games

through my long wet hair.

this girl’s hands are cold

mirrors reflecting the full moon

that settles like a cracked light bulb

on my fragile scarred arm

lines running from wrist to elbow

through a fifty pound childhood

that hangs around my neck in a pouch

as i hike from corner to corner.

this girl’s tongue tastes like oranges

left on the table to rot

the smell drifting to my bed

reminding me of wintery mornings

and sheets that i never washed.

this girl lies beside me and i look

up at the silhouette on the ceiling

slowly changing in shape

and washing against the shore

of a woman whose picture’s on my mind.