Fainted dented specter neath the lamp post
Dancing like a candles flame in the wind.
She makes her hand movements as if in smoke
On the horizon, rocks in the waves a splintered boat.

At least the Spring is here or coming or perhaps both
Time reveals herself at either opportune or inopportune...times
Though I repeat myself, does not mean I lie to myself
The truth is as elusive as a hummingbird in the mornings light

She presses her hands into the dough.
Out from underneath the soft beige flesh,
Spotted with dark brown dots of yeast and pepper,
Puffs of white flour **** outward onto her hand

How long has she been kneading away?
Where are the hours that she has spent this way?
Can it be that she is alone,
Or is there someone else perhaps at home?

I take my spoon and dip the silver cup in.
She takes my eyes and puts them in her rucksack.
I've lost my slack, there's no turning back.
I can't remember the last time I felt like that.

Birds buzz overhead like a million fireflies.
She gives me my eyes back and says, "You're welcome."
I try to say something back, but my voice snaps
Like a thin rubber band in the drawer in the back.

Two faced angel dressed all in lace.
A name tag says something, but I don't believe
That anything so beautiful
Would have a name and some keys.

Day becomes night and still here I sit.
The shop is closing down, yet I don't need a lift.
Oceans breathe as I feel a slight rip
Of a heart I thought to be another, as I see the other.

She takes his hand and smiles in a way
That shows me her teeth, her soul, oh 'matrimony's toll!
In front of me sits the bill with a long list of words.
I pay and walk onto a side street absurd.

No turn that I take can erase my mind of her face.
In the bar the barman asks me what I want and I tell him,
"Something that can make a seeing man forget."
He nods, shakes his head, and laughs, "I'll see what I can get."

The stool I sit in doesn't fit me.
I feel the message within me.

There is a lapse of thought and I see the mirror:
He sees me and I touch both ears to both shoulders.
I smile. He smiles.
I wink. He winks.
I lick my lips. He licks his lips.
I reach out to shake his hand,
But no hand is there to shake mine.

I am he and he is I.

We are here together
And she
Is elsewhere with another.

The scene is set for loneliness:
A bare stage with misspelled words;
A single light with a dying lightbulb;
A blue pen rests on a clean notepad;
A pile of dust gathers near an electrical outlet;
A refrigerator buzzes with no food inside;
A couch faces the television with the TV off;
A man faces the television, looking at his reflection;
A man hesitates to turn the television on;

He hesitates for a very long time.

I go back the next day and after I order, I tell her my name.
I ask, "What's yours?"
She tells me something, but I don't listen, because
I'm watching the way her lips move when she speaks her words.
She hands me my receipt, smiles a different smile,
And walks away to get me my coffee.

I sit down thinking,

"That's better than yesterday."