I Miss You Victoria Blue
You let me tie you up in
spaghetti strap camisoles
and buy you a flowery dress.
Except for that once,
I promised
to sit and stay besides you
at the hairdresser.
Your hair cropped in layers
every four months.
"Victoria on My Parents Couch", 2008.
Not even a year ago
you lay rigid and softly
upon my parents divan
I steadied the strobe light
above you.
You are regal white,
shockingly blue.
What makes you look like this?
You didn't know what to say.
Sweet fragility
found a new home
only three blocks away.
I held on
behind my new camera
with no more secrets
left to tell you.
