CANDY SAYS
She glided over the parquet, his little
princess on the piano, piccola bitchy.
I hung on for dear life, hungrily ate
his leftover crusts and limp lettuce.
Call me Candy. Whose legs he licked.
Whose sweet breath he sucked. Who knows.
I plucked her song from the drain, smeared
spit on the mirrors. Candy says: drop dead.