The Brief

at the breve counter
where my debit card
                                    declined
to cover my large with an
                                       extra
shot, she stood strangely
close
in faded scrubs of
scentless
lavender and violet,
an unrepentant
                             stare
catechizing my face

                                          Your makeup looks good

she told the throbbing side
of my head, as i battled to
recall the last
                           balance
of my bank

                                           Really good

her words
                 flung fast
against my temple,
splattering my hair
hanging breathless
from the silver curls
                                  until
finally they  fell,
a muted skirl
within my ear

i glanced
                 first
not at her, but at the
young man (yes, carbuncular)
whose mind her words had
freed
from fears of forsaken
latte, to Spec
ulation  

his eyes bumped mine, and
in that moment we both
                                           thought,
Well, perhaps She will pay

then

peripherally
very
        only
peripherally

i saw her

there was no smile
no follow-through
there was only
that
       stare
sharp
blue
and oh so
                  In
tentional

a look that left me,
digging in my bag,
to wonder
                  what
just what
it was that i
                    had
made up

©s rogers 24 july 2010