I met this girl named
Annie Trufant
At the
Village Green record store
While looking for
Kid A on vinyl
It was a Thursday
Annie has a tattoo
on her lower back that she affectionately
calls a tramp stamp
Annie told me about it while we lay in bed
smoking
Pall Malls, listenting to Domestica
When Annie leans forward her shirt rises to
reveal
that red and black star
that she drew in
Eighth grade
In Mrs. Carter's art class
It cost two hundred dollars on a warm
September day
The artists' name was Jeff, he listened to
the Foo Fighters
Annie didn't mind the pain after the first
few minutes
She barely bled, Jeff told her
And he said it was one of the best
Original designs
He had seen in that year
Annie liked my hand placed on her tattoo
when we slept, my other hand
under her neck
Annie ended our relationship
When we were at
Starbucks
We both had
Black coffee
I didn't cry but
Neither did she
I met this girl named Susie (or Suzy) at a
party
We drank
We fucked
I turned on the light as she got dressed and
I noticed she had a
Lower back tattoo
A tramp stamp
Every girl has one
It was a star or something stupid like that,
I didn't ask
I didn't talk to her much, I went home,
everything in its right place
I vomited and passed out