Forgettable

She was easy to
                                love
And even easier to 
                                      forget
This she knew early
Though not early 
                                  enough 

Brown Betty October,
orange day edges burnt
umber by summer’s end, 
carries the  
                     kiss
 of love given too
freely to be forever

Forever belongs to May,
citron days of want and wish,
tattooed by calendar 
                                         girls
whose blood-filled needles
can never be forgotten

Not she

No 

Not she

She was for 
                        night
For shade and shadow 
and the cliche of 
                                 dream
left to tease the tongue 
with a taste 
                       not quite 
                                         known 
                       not quite  
                                         remembered
and so easily forgotten

Wiped away with a  
                                     stretch
                           and a  
                                     sigh
and the somnolent 
                                     consolation
that she was never
                                     really
there
            at all 

© s rogers 2008

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