Her

If She lived in California the Rockies would rush towards the shore,

        so instead of a coatline easing out into the sea

She'd live on the edge of a cliff - where the wind would caress Her hair

       And the beach would whisper secretly of Her blond

The Hollywood sign would be Her nightlight

     And instead of looking up at the stars, they would look to Her

You see the vineyard owners would be jealous of Her sweetness

     And the deep dea divers envious of Her depth

Her cheeks flush redder than the Bay Bridge

    And Her eyes would shimmer with the incandescence of the underside of an abalone

So you see She was California - and I could never go back