A woman at the market today
had obsidian eyes that tilted like
orbits grappled and shook
by a toothleth toddler.
I dropped an orange,
imagining the spritz coming
from the eye and into my mouth,
and for a moment of a moment the
rubber floor nudged at my heels with a sneer.
*** herself not once touched me,
nor lured her invisible tongue
across my intestines, yarn for
barbed wire.
She stood at the register
with a green (I'd like to call ribboned)
apron and ironed, white shirt,
smiled at me when I was
fumbling for 2 quarters--
worth a cent more for my time
when I stumbled away.