I came to you with a pair of jeans, windshield-wiper fluid and a baby-helmet.
You looked at me and mumbled,
“Cash or credit,”
The gorgeous black ropes of your hair Hung like vines,
And I wanted to tell you that you that you looked like some Caribbean mermaid-mythology come to life,
A Heavenly creature that sailors would go on adventures and risk their lives Just to find the fabled Isle where you live
But instead I looked down and swiped a debit card
and I left K-Mart.