Smangria

Fact and Fiction, whichever smiles,
Her own om not with standing,
this siren's song with mermaid's tail,
deserted but untroubled, speeding past problems,
where she holds true to me,
despite my albums of foibles,

small towns hold her little,
where a heart grew from somewhere bigger,
who flashed that obsidian mind candidly,
part what you feel, part what you don't,
a scarlet deep heart that pumps up, beyond

moxie face flushed, all kinship,
with language and grace and 'tude,
and to see it all begin, then to fly.