Dirty

You loved me once,

all that Sunday as I fell

so delicately into

your arms and onto

all your waiting world.

 

You curse me now

that I’ve overstayed

my welcome,

sullied and froze

the ground you walk on. 

You think I’m a freak

of nature, but Mother

bore me just as the wind

and rain. Yes, my beauty

fades with the days,

but doesn’t everyone’s?