Pitter Patter

Her broken heart
made her groggy.

Her vagina
had been in a skirmish with a boy.

Digging out kisses
from his collar.

His hands
like buses in the nasty barrio.

The diesel fumes
made a ring around her finger.

She thought
that'd be enough.

The veins in her dress
dark blue.

Her mind for sale now
at the very same pulga

where her ex drinks a beer
straight out of the ground.