Gina! I lost you to Reed and your senior thesis
I lost you to libraries and stressful tears
I lost you to the arms of Portland's Athena
far from my cold northern kiss.
Gina, I lost you in pies and breads
Our bed was nothing but flour and yeast.
What a horrible thing, to sleep on eggshells.
At the end you fixed me with black wings
I slipped a ring on your finger,
you hung it about your neck on plain silver links.
It was then I knew that I could never love a woman
Or maybe you were still a girl.
Either way, heavy breasts can no longer call me,
And long brown hair turns me off.
You turned me SHY, lady love
And I spurn their open mouthed kisses
Even as I crave my fingers in their cunts.
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