Photoshopping Girls

a cabernet question
tumbled from a tongue
a stellar answer
to confirm and confuse

the floor was sticky by the bar
and ceiling fans dried my eyes
red and red at the corner
and you just looked ahead

you walked
past the girl crouched on the curb
through the glass to the empty yellow
away on a train you
rumbled

i walked back
past the girl crouched on the curb
across to the corner red and red
and into my bed i
tumbled

she walks towards men
in pinstriped suits all wrong
i burned to erase them
and cut a girl in a wrinkled trench

sharp white edges
to frustrate and madden
a magnetic impossibility
so swollen and saddened