Her laughter

Like a thousand diamonds cracking into sand, into grit

Grinding like sugar on broken glass,

Saccharine-sweet

But it leaves a bitter taste

Red stiletto fingernails on a cold black chalkboard

Dangerous beauty

A piercing melody

Sirens, half women, half birds

Screeching love songs with a country twang

From a jukebox of painful memories

Teardrops into whiskey

Irish whiskey, like her fire-blonde hair

Her smirk slaps his cheek

Shadowed with a week of stubble

He’ll never get over her

Her and her golden feet

Toes pressing into silky sand

On the coldest day of July

And a memory of love as sweet as French vanilla cappuccino

And as bitter as the black coffee that pumps through his veins

In lieu of blood

The sun never shines for him, either

But he’s glad to be rid of them both, the blood and the sunshine

Because red on yellow will kill a fellow

When a fellow aches to die