He offered a watery beer,
with a tart green half moon shoved in the can.
It tasted odd and was paid for
With the promise of conversation.
—The unspoken trade agreement that nothing is free.
Though strange he wasn’t a stranger and I thought (and there’s the problem)
See I thought I could gleam
A litmus test of jealousy,
After all you were there with me,
When he asked to buy me the drink.
But you were water,
A perfect neutrality that betrayed,
the indifference I’d been ignoring.