She


When I first saw you on the floodlit catwalk
I felt passion stir and had to be in
your warm leather embrace.

While I was so in love,
I could not see your faults.
Proclaiming only virtues
I allowed photographs,
videos even, to be taken
which show a grinning fool:
I, with you, then.

The money I spent:
Your black vinyl bra, body waxing,
silicone enhancements, rubber gear
-- o God all that stuff.

But time passed, the mirrors cracked
reality peered through your metalflake skin,
a basic blush primer.
I should have known the clearcoat
was an optional extra

Despite my devotion you became frigid,
leaking body fluids.
In that menopause I sent you to another.
You came back purring and I was so happy
for you, me, us, then.

Even as you aged, losing your curves
I aged too, forgiving your lack of speed,
a slight sagging, the odd squeal,
even moments of total abandon
others remarked upon, winking,
thinking it me, not you, then.

But your emissions increased
former friends called hotlines
with ugly rumours:
you started smoking
and I lost you, then.

And so we part,
me in tears, you in parts.
yet we may meet again,
incarnate in another life,
recycled, poor old car.