i was young. too young to know better. she drove a motor cycle
and wore a trench coat. had shorter hair than me
and had kissed more girls.
she was a tad older than me and im telling you, when the light hit her wrong she looked mannish.
to me at least. a boy from illinois.
one night ontop of mulholland i opened up her trench coat and
rainbows and unicorns and all the doors of perception flew out at me.
femininity times femininity.
but when the light hit her wrong.
rode home that night on the back of her harley.
we watched music videos on tv, something they used to televise.
she excused herself and came out wearing a football helmet, no shirt, and a leather skirt.
i spilled my grape soda, something they used to sell in stores
and turned off that damn light.