She Said/He Said

she:

i blot my lips together

smile with my eyes before

i push open the wooden door

to the corner store…

bells ring

teddy p sings from the tiny metal box

next to the strawberry phillies

and those silly lil do- rags

that have been there since 1992.

you

are stacking the daily news

next to the courier, and i

find myself getting caught up

in the expansion and contraction

of your back muscles under

the black T.

i say good morning…

lemme get the daily

a pack of newport lights 100

n a couple loose jolly ranchers

you smile…

that smile.

that smile that is the precursor to a melding of joy, bliss

and satisfaction,

always wondered if it was a reaction to my presence

but was afraid to ask

i mask my nervousness with a girlish wave

a wink and a have a good day.

on the way to work i pop a peach

jolly rancher in my mouth

hand the homeless man

the newports and the paper.

he doesn’t know i read my news on the internet

and i quit smoking months ago.

he:

at seven twenty three

i casually, flip

the radio to the morning slow jams

as if i am creating the soundtrack to her existence

bells ring

the door opens and the breeze carries in

the essence of

cotton and peach trees

and as i rearrange these

papers for the third time today

i look in the mirror above the do-rags

so i can see the smile in her eyes.

she

lets her hips sway

back and forth like a metronome

as if she is counting the exact second

she says good morning to me

that exact second the sun shines

and i smile.

even though i wish she would stop smoking

i am doting on the fact that she takes an interest

in current events.

i smile again as i inhale her scent

she winks and i wonder if she read my mind

i wonder if she knew how much she was on my mind

i wonder what she would say if i told her the store

doesn’t sell loose jolly ranchers

they were mine.

***originally published by Michele Mitchell