seventyeight

she was honest and used
to boys who forgot her birthday but
remembered the price of cigarettes;
boys who never cared for Billy Collins or
Clark Gable.

she was accustomed to a definition of love
that meant dealing with the other person's
bullshit, having dealt with quite a bit.
she was familiar with compromises and not feeling
control; things food and poetry became an outlet
for.

she was used to boys with thick lips and
hard hands; boys she could memorize and
read like a book; boys she could wink at and
make things go her way; boys with throats
that violated and shoulders that spoke.

she always enjoyed a challenge, something that
wasn't simple and held her interest. something
with a strong jawbone and breezy eyes.
she met a man.