Mimi

Tears streak a sallow yet porcelain visage
in the passenger seat of a car
in an industrial part of town
on a side street near a punk rock bar,
the others are waiting but the owner
of the face doles out truth, doles out
the story of how a now ex-love
lacked common human decency
and the ears in the driver’s seat
listened and wondered if they were
any different than the cad
in the story and wondered,
bewildered as to how anyone
could hurt something so pretty.