Halfway to Memphis Gone

I’ve cried Van Gogh. I cried
in rain not knowing storm
from storm. I was bourbon
and every day you wanted

milk. It’s Sunday. I’ve found
Friday night with the right
guy, and I’m his kind of girl.
You met me, and I wasn’t

enough. I’m walking away,
and by morning, I’ll be your
greatest love. Things were
crazy good when the bed

moved like Astaire. We were
beautiful gods then. Some
days, I was the chorus
wrapped around your brain.

Who knows why things
change? I’m another man’s
liquor now and it feels right.
We’re halfway to Memphis

gone. Don’t look for me.
Memphis may be Albuquerque
or Tulsa – just like it’s 3am or
forever since I walked out.

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