Lauren (A Poem)

Red hair, the reddest or reds

A throwback from the Emerald Isle

Blue jeans painted over porcelain skin

She flirts with me to the point that it hurts

We’re thick as thieves

But still strangers in the night

Soon she’ll be gone just like the rest

Her smile will become an apparition

It’ll haunt me until I forget

I’ll hear her voice until the sun refuses to rise

I’ll see her eyes in every late night sky

I’ll weep on the inside when I remember

Spitting image of her mother

She’ll age like a Cheval Blanc

I’ll spend nights thinking of the vintage

An opportunity is all I ask

Perhaps just a taste

Just a tug on that long red hair