What She Said Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Drinking out the side of my mouth,
And looking the other way into the mirror,
I try to forget your smile,
Or how you gave your man my poems,
So I learned to never trust a girl
With eyes as lovely and wooded as her
Hair;
And when she says she loves you she
Keeps her hair long,
And in the same free flowing manner that
Whipped like a wind vane after she leapt all those
Hurdles like ditches,
Like canals way back in high school,
How she time traveled over those things;
But, if you saw her,
You would see she has cut it, or permed it,
Or worse,
And she hasn’t loved you for ever so long,
And she has made love to men in strange pools,
Both of which you will never see,
And you will never smell her again,
At least the way that she seemed to smell across
The halls of high school,
Something so young and so sweet and so
Surreal,
And yet you believed what she said.