Her legs are longer than mine
Stretching across the horizon
With enough change to get back.

Her hips are slimmer than mine
Slipping through sidewalk cracks
And into small children's clothing.

Her breasts are fuller than mine
Filling up cups, pints, and gallons
Up to the very brim and beyond.

Her lips are redder than mine
Rivaling cherries off the tree
Turning fire engines envious green.

Her hair is shinier than mine
Blinding passerbys in summertime
When the sun shines just for her.

Thank God she's dead.