The Girl I Left in Va

And I sit aside with her to say

That my wet steel-toed boots

Are not firm enough to stay.

My voice, I hear, in wavy discontent,

Utter that I have to leave that coast,

A drunk man's Norfolk, weary shipyard

Land that grinds your dreams to dust.

I left her my girl, alone,

Freezing, with her purple T-shirt on,

To stay in the dock, near a steel boat,

Navy-made, blocking the sun

A sonic bell and loud bang ring

In my ears when I think of her

Settling for some other, that blue-eyed jerk,

And her nonchalantly saying

I see her hand, her puffy cheeks,

Her innocent eyes and us, dead.

Among us was a serpent

Between us a venom

Have you ever died? Blood

Tastes like burned coffee

Love has no taste,

Chile burns away your tears.

She disappears from my arms

When I think of how we kissed

Foreverly, is that a start?

Who knows, there never was a second part.

Crummy fall fell on us,

A winter in that blasted place

People would put a sweater on a block of ice

And with it came, our long good bye,

We were in a car,

her shoulder touching mine tingled

Like an electric shock

But I failed to realize it, then.

Tension filled the air

When we crossed each other,

Across bulkheads (walls) or passages

And she moved her shoulder-length hair across her face.

I saw her again, and again,

Is it 2009, 2010?

If I close my eyes forever

Could I forget her kiss, her smile?

It was in 2001, I left that ship,

Off that plank, a green bag over a shoulder, a plank owner,

I owned a small part of it,

And it owned the biggest part of me.