Your mother never liked me
she could tell what kind I was.
But you liked me.
Well enough to steal…
sweet pink mounds of bubble gum-flavored ice cream
just for me
when you worked the shift alone
And when the shop was empty…
to suffer my cigarette-tongued kisses
in a dark corner
beside the pastel blink and glare
of the Pac Man machine
To hand me a wallet-sized copy of your junior year portrait
with a ball-point message
penned in block letters:
“To an excitable girl…”
You were a fine young man.
You had your head on straight.
You were destined for success.
I heard you made Eagle Scout.
How proud your mother must have been.
My mother thought you were such a nice boy.
That’s how I knew we’d never last.