#12

Sang One Song
By XII

Slowly, deliberately I opened the door
Wandered into my favorite store
She was behind the counter
Glowing like a street lamp
Put in by some workers
Half past their dimes
Stepped into half-light
These were innocent times
Checked my watch in one corner
Pretended that I knew the owner
Holding on to an opaque glass
I couldn't ask what I wanted to ask
Fell down the wheelchair ramp
into the dull, dim, dusty, dirty street
In my mouth, the taste of orange peels
The grim grim taste of defeat