Charred grass
From a bird’s eye view
Spells her name
The bird sees more
Her perfume and the
Indent of her collarbone
Impenetrable wall
of soaking brunette hair
Playfully flipped
It grapevines
Her damn beautiful face
That she hated
All stapled to the places
They shared hands
Toothbrushes and faces
What should’ve
Ended
in a honeymoon suite
If only she hadn’t tied the knot
And laced it round her neck