“Bless her Heart,” he says,
to a product of display
but to her dismay:

Silhouette behind
numbers and comments – many
of which carry her.

“Who,” – should cherish her,
could take care of her
would love her: profile.

He saw her display,
with another hundred men,
behind glass windows.

Seeing an outline,
shape with no response throughout,
still, completely still.

“Hello,” she said
tight-lipped as a hushed shadow
in the faint doorway.