FREED VERSE

Loving you was as easy as apple pie. 
Your granny-smith lips were perfectly underripe,
     their skin taut and their flesh young.
     Your tongue was loose enough to soak up the syrup
     in your more-sugar-than-cinnamon breath, all while
     twisting with mine.
     tart. 

The ghosts of your fingers are interlaced with mine. 
You have a phantom hand
I can’t bring myself to shake. 

Your eyes were the stars in my spangled banner.
The merlot blush in your cheeks were the red stripes 
patterned in with the blues and whites of your eyes.

I know your eyes better than you do.
After all, they used to widen at the sight of me.

The powder in our firecrackers burned hot.
What started as a spark
      burned into an all-American Beauty: 
      lost nights, lite beers, and lazy cigarettes
      under the starlight. 

We bled true blue,
      but when our flag was at half-mast,
      it was only a white one you wanted to wave. 
What I wouldn’t give to hoist myself up that pole,
      bring a broken bottle or two,
      and make those white stripes red again.
      Dye you star-struck.
 
All the same, I know by the time I get back down
you’ll be gone with the wind.

We were a love story for the ages 
that ended in a one-sided home run–
your favorite pastime. 

All that, and yet,
Lady Liberty still stands.
The nice thing about copper is that it fades to green.