we found her along the edge of town,
skirting the sands,
five miles from anywhere,
a pale candle melting in a noon sun

she was sundry, impossibly bland,
a not-quite blonde
who passed through
lurking about, looking for trouble,
for something she tossed out the window
of a car, traveling fast through gravel
through the past,

past a navel
panties bloomed a poppy red,
face shamed the same tone, face

downward toward the pool,
a mired thing, warmly leaking
telltale images of yesterday:
the topdown drive of carefree brunettes,
a stern face on a wall at home
tiny beads bound to a box,
pushed to the back of the drawer
all forgotten with the first blow

the last sound of no