One loves bread but only allows herself
one sandwich a year. Traces the scars where
her nipples should be. Two gets high from cold
wind on her skin when she runs. She loved a
liar who pinched her to make her go faster.
Three splits apart clumps of grown bearded men
to tell them this song's her favorite. There is
not enough gin for her to admit that
some mornings she wakes up wishing she hadn't.
Jesus once loved Four but forgot to tell her
accidents happen. The good Christian boy
didn't rape her but forgot to tell her
he was going inside. Later over
lattes she will scream he is not her savior.
Outside Family Dollar Five steps off the
bus, climbs onto a bicycle, cries on
her sundress, and zips away. Makes sadness
smell like summer.