‘Number seven’ is a box of nothing marking the entrance
to the garden of remembrance of the boys that went & never
returned & that first faltering kiss. The earth tilted in a
love cartoon as she reeled me in to her halo of blonde, a fog
of perfume, booze & cigarettes. She was the best looking girl
in school, I was a mug to think she was only interested in me.
I got a few months of that Princely sensation ’til the night
I saw her on the arm of the bruiser with the big dog.