Clementina

Today I walked down to the corner store
for cigarettes and wine
you hadn’t been home for days
and I’ve learned not to ask why

The girl behind the counter reminded me
of myself when I was younger
with bitten nails and scarlet lips
and I remembered why I had loved her

I think I might have stared too long
but she didn’t seem to mind
just handed me my things, and said
with a true blue sort of smile

“In a hundred years we’ll be gone
in a thousand so will the sea,
so let’s stop calling it karma
and start saying what we really mean.”

The sky was gunmetal grey tonight
and the wine, it didn’t last long
before it stumbled home and fell into bed
snoring with it’s shoes still on

I’ll sleep in the neighbor’s garden tonight
blanketed by velvet sky
content as a child asleep in their bed
baptized in dew from the vines

But first I’ll remember the girl at the counter
as the constellations spin and run
and how I wish she were here now
and how I wish we were undone

“In a hundred years we’ll be gone
in a thousand so will the sea,
so let’s stop calling it karma
and start saying what we really mean.”