When I was in love with you
I was lit like Times Square.
If you brushed against me
the place glowed
for days,
making me look like a tramp
outside a cheap bar,
the dirty light
eaten by her polyester dress.
I wore your words around my wrist
like a cut-rate rosary bracelet,
all pale blue plastic
and tacky nylon cord.
I would lay in bed and wonder
if lightning bug are embarrassed
by how their butts light up
when they’re looking for a mate
…and if it’s at all like
how I’m embarrassed
that you can flick my smile
on and off
like a light switch.
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