Tuesday, January 5, 2016

A scene at the local bar

The single lady, at the bottom of the bar could have been me-
a loveless child, unmarried to the density of
the time spent for cultivating other chances,
by chatting to the sounds over the drinks
looks twice to her shoulder, once
to the men who could be a comfort.
That won't be me, I say, long after I order my drink
to walk away on my own.

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