Sangre de Stephanie

She told me one day I’d forget how to love her,
the same way a kid will forget how to play cops
and robbers, it’s gradual, it’s slow bleeding colors
from a fragile sun, we wake to Led Zeppelin, her
dress torn, skinned knee, trying to remember what
the fuck we should do next, we pick up the pieces
of a last conversation, a story we made up together
told in touches, caresses, sidelong glances, barely
audible gasps, it doesn’t matter who’s good or bad
or who’s at fault, we’re all innocent, eager, wanton,
and unbreakable, she squeezes my hand, kisses my
eyes shut, and we are windblown, orphans, there’s
been too much loss already, I can no longer hold my
breath and ask if she remembers the old wooden
bridge when we were kids, shook to hell whenever
a train passed over, she tells me I’ve made a habit
of losing her, can feel her smile, can feel her walk
away and as I listen for the whistle point my finger
at the track, cock my thumb, bang bang you’re dead.