conversation
a woman spoke to me
on the bus
her eyes were blue and soft
as saga cheese. they looked as though
they'd yield to gentle pressure,
and taste like mold
Like you could leave your thumbprints
in them
she never asked a question
and oily waves of hair encroached little
by little on her face
She fumbled with invisible cigarettes
drawn from a bent white box
She nodded from time to time
so did i
I was embarrassed to admit i didn't
speak danish; and anyway
she wouldn't have heard.
"Now Where Did I Leave My Keys?"
1 hour ago
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