He knows me by my first name

The boy who works at the drugstore

near the end of the street.

When I shovel out the crumbled twenty from my left pocket
he doesn’t even bother to say


Will that be all-
Or
Which pump are you at -


His simple smile spreads across his face,

And he calls me by my first name-

I am no longer the girl at the drugstore

near the end of the street.