Pin-up Girl

Time took her well before I got the chance
To examine the body I saw in the photographs.
Oh, what a fantasy she had been in her
Corsets, her feathers, her soft-focus sprawls
On some living room furniture, edges of
Pools. When I reached her, her eyes and
Her cheeks were in shadows. She looked
Very angry, the years having taking whatever
Was in her (she liked going fishing) and left
Her a shell, a thing that was used to sell
Cars and cologne, and I saw it was fading.
The tits that had stuck out so boldly, so
Solid, had sunken. The teenager's waist
Was gone. “Let's get it over,” she said,
As she stepped from her swim suit, and, briefly,
I thought that we should, but the anger, the
Sadness that cowered beneath it, the sordid
Notion that what I was seeking was all that
She'd ever been able to be, made me ask
Her to dress. We came out of that room,
And I took her fishing instead.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 17 times
Written on 2010-12-31 at 13:10

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