She sat along the edge, longways 

Feet dangling

She looked at me, sideways

Heart wrangling

The puff

Nicotine, or something else

The huff

Listerine, or something else 

Spaghetti strings 

Dance between scapulettes

Spine pearl configuration 

She’s Montague. 

She’s Capulet. 

I can contain her sides

No more than the sea can retain its lies 

There are things better said unleft 

Like the boy, the man, the bereft