Breakerface

"Breakerface" she squawked
from the sun baked plantation.
"Wait for me?"
last I heard, she needed no company
now here was she
reeling me into a game.

Beyond Javier's yard, the moviehouse
where Gable and Wayne made mothers swoon
was our first rest.

"Jawbreaker?"
she thrust the crimson candy sphere into my palm.
Dye marked, we made bonds, bonbon bonds.
It was sweet.

Attired in a flowered dress
that started life as curtains.
Last I heard, Jessica was her name.
She had fallen today, and a crusty scab
had formed on her knee.

"Lemonade?"
begrudgingly, i let her swallow some of my drink.
Yellow, sweet, the bubbles made her sneeze.

Smudging her frown with a grimy hand
she pulled me through rows of marroon
springy velvet chairs
mess underfoot, popcorn and soot.

Flames had gutted the theatre.
Firemen had come.
Since then no movies played.
'Pictures' she called them.

Swinging over the orchestra pit
we fell amongst mannequins
ranks of shy, melted dolls
flammable ladies with similar faces.

They were the reason
for the end of the shows.
Silly Fenwyck
left them queueing near the power hose.

"Cast it" she whispered
clutching a mossy stone and
clearing her dirty nose, she urged
"Breakerface."

We sat buried in arms and cavernous faces,
telling lies and at eight we left so as not to be missed during
supper.