The girl liked Morrissey
and she liked me
(though not in that order).
She came to my room
late, one night,
but, like Morrissey
I was beyond such things
as love and touch.

She left my room
to go to another’s
and I didn’t realize
what I’d missed
until I later learned to love Billy Bragg
who
once
covered a Smiths song:
Jeanne.

That wasn’t the girl’s name
but then
not all stories wrap up
quite so smoothly.