i went to the girl in the German bar
but the french had won her back
she had been fresh, dark-luscious
ripe on the vine, dripping in succulence
and my future, she held in her locket
she could wink with her lips
and smile with her eyes
a fine trick to a boy shedding innocence
or perhaps, innocence
shedding the boy
i went meaning to ask her
did she remember?
was my future yet hidden in her locket?
but my future i found instead
in her tired eyes which long ago
forgot how to smile
so we said nothing beyond
a glance to the mirror
of an innocence
we sold so cheaply
not knowing
we could never buy it back
not even for a moment
