Perfect

She liked me

Because I was a bad boy

Until I jumped on the hood

Of her shiny red Trans Am

Shouting that I loved her.

I thought she was perfect.

She was flawlessly beautiful.

Pristine olive skin

Brown eyes

Sturdy facial contours

Manicured hair and nails

High end lingerie

Purchased from a boutique

Worn over a supple

Hewed body

Maintained at a gym.

She smelled wonderful

Like a mysterious high end call girl

From the Upper East Side.

But that love ended

Ubruptly

That night.

Me 

The bad boy

In leather and chrome

And heavy boots

Professing his heartfelt feelings

For her ideal

On the hood of her car

In a parking lot

In Hoboken.

I didn’t see her again

Until we were in court.

Me 

Laughingly 

Representing myself.

Her with her well-appointed lawyer

Suing me for the small

Impression

That I left on the hood of her car.

She

Sat there twenty feet away.

No love for me whatsoever.

We were strangers then.

She

Still a perfectly maintained

Bitch.

She was probably fucking her lawyer

I thought.

She never paid for anything.

I knew firsthand.

And

Me

Still the bad boy

Telling the judge

That

“Yes.”

“I did it.”

And

That

“This bitch sitting in front of you will never know anything about love.”

I said it with conviction.

More for her

Than the judge.

Neither gave a shit.

I had to write out a check

Right there

In the courtroom

For damage

Including court costs

And lawyers fees.

And I’m sure it bounced

At least once.