She wants me to think she’s from LA

but I peg her more as Miami.

A city that remembers the MTV

parties of the 90’s

and the sad progression of

pop culture that left her “look”

behind.

She’s got a look to her skin,

not pale like a porcelain

or soft like the sand on the west coast

but brittle, burnt and cracked.

Like she’s felt the touch of too many palms

on her back but they were always in transit

to a hotter location,

so to speak.

Like she owns one too many bikini’s

and one black dress for her father’s funeral.

But she remembers her hay day,

she’ll always remember.