She had more spots than
a pack of Dalmatians
and the white-headed
ones sparkled in
sunlight;
she was Mary
and we met in a
confectionary factory
and we dated
became romantic
and we were teenage
virgins
and we didn’t want
to be teenage
virgins
and we were working
at it, getting close
and I fucked up
making a wild scene
at her family home
and a few days later
she phoned and
told me she’d met
someone else and he
was a man and
he could take his drink,
I wished her well
knowing that I’d
be an enlisted
virgin-soldier
in a few weeks time
and that I’d
probably have to do
a great deal of
bullshitting
about my virginity
and a lot of other
things
and
I feel as though I’ve
been doing exactly
just that
ever since.
