pretty coins and broken bones


there is a ship wrecked beauty about her
urban decay mouth as she sips her mocha
latte and takes a bite out of her lemon anise
biscotti at the local coffee shop nearby

and even though she's only another vogue icon,
her camera-shy rolling stone smile dies quickly
like the petals of bourbon roses caught in
barbed wire in the outskirts of suburbia

but she's out of control,
a wild thang that can
suck your soul

dropping out of high school at sixteen,
she paints the world an ugly black
just by closing her pinwheel eyes
because she's never going back
to chasing the crippled sunrise

playground swings
seesaws and monkey bars
coke and vanilla ice cream
cotton candy and their very first kiss

but now he's twenty-four,
his life has passed him by
and he's stuck in yesterday,
drunk today and
hung-over tomorrow

she's just a gunpowder tea girl
with a penchant for pretty coins,
locked up in a storybook fantasy
of a peppermint summer

and he's merely a ginger schnapps boy
with broken bones, held prisoner
by the afterburn of a cinnamon winter