61800
can you see me?
a quick glance at my face
and longer stare at the clothes I wear
answered no questions other than
"do you got a job?"
or
"what kinda car you drive?"
and I smiled
giving acceptable
and yet
honest answers
we sat there over dinner and drinks
politely conversating about nothing we cared about
can I see you?
I thought I did
hidden somewhere between the cleavage and curves
or was it my hormones conducting the interview
maybe I wasn't looking in the right place
"how many kids you got?"
and
"do YOU got a job?"
your answers were honest
and superficially acceptable
now
intellectually satisfied
(for the time being)
physically fed
(at my expense)
and sexually stimulated
we woke up the next morning
you
without your makeup
me
without my self-installed defense mechanisms
I said
"hello"
you said
“hello"
all evening
all night
still finding ourselves the same way we first met
strangers
