A girl once
She wore perfume that smelled like a Sunday lie,
And lips like rusted knives—
A woman like that don’t settle,
She just wanders through men’s lives.
I gave her my keys and my winter coat,
She gave me a goodbye note,
Hidden within a half-full bottle And a half-finished murder quote.
She was last seen by me at a pawnshop, Trading wedding rings for smokes—
She said love is just a shell game,
And I was her last broke joke.
Now I sleep with the window open,
Just in case her ghost blows in—
She was jazz in a needle,
Additionally, I sinned too slowly. She taught me how to ruin myself
With a crooked smile and class— And how to cry like a thief in church
in a town that doesn't merit the distance. Now I date my loneliness proper,
And wear my shame like a suit—
But I still keep that damn perfume bottle,
And a postcard she never wrote.
Copyright © Ronald Loupe | Year Posted 2025
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