Even More Beautiful

She did her Dance of the
Dying Seagull for me.
It was awful.   She was
very strung out.

She said her name was Eileen but
I didn’t believe her.
Her boyfriend was a biker.
He hit her.
They didn’t get along but she said
she loved him.   Then we fucked.

She didn’t want to kiss.   She said there
was something in saliva that was addictive.
If she kissed me she would fall in
love with me, be addicted to me, & she
couldn’t do that because she was in love
with the biker who beat her up.

She had a lean, beautiful body.
Small breasts & long legs.
We smoked cigarettes & caressed
one another.   Then we fucked again.

In the morning I drove her out to the
train station.   She bit my ear & rubbed her
knee against my crotch.

She wrote her phone number
on an empty pack of Marlboros
& gave it to me.

I watched the train pull away.

The sky had tilted into a dull brilliance.

I tossed the empty Marlboro
package into a trash can
& walked back to my car.