I know you’ve come from some other woman.
The New Orleans night is all over your clothes.
You’ve watched me come out of mine
with the calculation you give things
earned and now owned.
See these thick breasts once
a high and proud prize in Georgia.
See these blue laced legs known early
as the smooth refuge of an eager heart.
See everything–see this band
embedded in the fullness of my finger,
bought those days we laughed at the lack of things:
Rent money, good meat, movies.
Remember that was in Florida
where every day came on white and clean.
And remember that I was a blonde.