She is new to me.

Pretty is too shallow a jar

To contain the life spilling from her. 

But this is all I can think about

As we weave through the hallway.

Her cheeks flush raspberry meringue,

Pretty.

She tucks her chin, 

Waves of honey wheat hair 

Curtaining around her face, 

Pretty. 

She pushes down the slight catch in her voice

With a clear of her throat, 

Pretty, pretty, pretty. 

I ask her where he is, 

Though I already know 

He left. 

And I watch something fracture

As she drags out the words,

Oh. I didn’t tell you?

Although we both know 

She wasn’t going to, 

This is how she does things 

So we pretend 

In the passenger seat of her beat-up SUV,

Where the smoke wafts thick 

From her lips 

Where her lover’s kiss used to rest 

Our friends say it was this devil-boy 

Who stole her away 

With the allure of cotton-candy love

Rolled between his fingers

But he never gave her a lighter, 

Didn’t force the cigarette between her teeth 

And pinch her nose

Until all she could breathe was him 

He is gone. 

I am the one holding her

So I offer her the first truth of the night,

I’m glad you are alive

And watch how she crumbles

Like cinders in my arms