well that was a beautiful city
i think he had a beautiful tan
i heard he tried to make peace
in the tropical asian southeast
left footprints on bigfoot and a beach
made marilyn milkmaid the moon
runaway chevy fifty-seven bridegroom
the flag that got left on her face
and then he lost interest

when he lost faith in my body
i assumed it was me, in washington d.c.
my mother my father implicitly
somersaulting the scene
there were sprinklers and sparklers
and lipgloss from a rich invitee
at my eleventh birthday party
so it must have been me
was i jackie or sara

should i have offered my face
like courtney then lana and everyone else
become a magazine fiction
lolita fillers, no filters, no friction
trade a dick in for my diction
go down for an icy-hot la embrace
but i assumed it was me
i bought in, i got out, i was clean
now im your summer ambition

if you cut me down to your size
you can grab me by the waist
be the one to take me back
if you put me in my place
will you teach me willing words
will you rearrange my face
i strip naked for a tune
if you touch me like i touch me
reach for my dangerously thin body

when i put makeup on my eyes
i can still look twenty-one
its when i start to cry for him
its clear im done and dying again
but now that ai fills the sky
we could really write a hit
throw pinecones from behind a tree
and when you dont show up for it
ill cry for a squirrel

he got famous with a book
from a girl it took the look
but it will never be okay
for me to hook an iamb
i tried to be a flesh machine
i fucked the literary scene
all the women there were mean
and the fathers gave me hpv
i thought it was a dog disease

that was the shape of me then
when he lost faith in my body
and i assumed it was my face
i took ballet classes in houston
practiced lightning earns his grace
i was too stubborn, it was me
everyday a tempest fought a system
i parted so many ways i parted
the ocean

even so, most days i dont know
if i can make promises again
even for roses, violets for you
eve or the planet or my ghost best friend
for who made me, who left me, i left him
cherry-black abortion vasectomy
and he was a baby then too
and i know what it looks like now
babies having babies

he was the last american man
it was a dream and he was dead
before my life even began
face of an unsolved mystery
slid right through when previously
sleeping through history
i assumed that bob did it
but it was just he, most easily
who delivered the unfortunate news


//

nevertheless, this
he was saying
if he would be willing to strip

he would seem to you to be faceless
so all-beautiful is the form

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οὕτως τὸ εἶδος πάγκαλός ἐστιν

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