(Published in ‘a fine line’, Summer 2019/20)
Jeaned. Black T-shirted.
Coiffured and moustached.
Pierced, inked, ear budded.
Cold brewed. Avo smashed.
Ringed fingers flicker.
Text sent. iPhone dark.
Sleek chrome-onyx fob.
Italian marque.
LimeLululemon.
Her sweat sweet Dior’s
Decafsoylatte.
No pockets. Where’s hers?
I stand. Out of place.
My pocket weighed down.
My grubby sweats sag.
A grey wrinkled frown.
A comforting mass.
Their jingling sings.
Intertwined jumble.
On multiple rings.
I don’t remember –
I reach for the door –
what most of my keys
open anymore.
slick. like last stanza especially
Thanks Mark. My first go at writing with a theme/idea defined for me. Found it tough.