He Sat At the Bar

He sat at the bar, She had just left To use the restroom, And he pondered His situation. Yes, She was beautiful, Curves in the right places, Weave perfectly done, Not a track in sight, Outfit exhibiting all That God had blessed her with, But..... But she spent more time In the hairdresser's chair Than she spent in bookstores. Philosophical conversations Left him confused and He was a philosophy major. Yes, She was pretty, But she was like A beautiful vase, Pretty on the outside, Empty on the inside. He sat at the bar, Trying to put words together Kind enough Not to damage her ego, Strong enough To let her know That they were over. Words pulled him From his thoughts, They came from somewhere Behind him, They were a mix of Male and female, Peppered with a rhetoric His mind hungered for. Slowly, he turned around, Searching the bar For a couple In deep conversation. They sat two yards away, Two book ends, Brother and sister. He sipped his whiskey, Pretending to be taking in The whole bar scene, But he was really Fixated on her, Fixated on the dialogue. She was no stunner By society's standards, But the more she spoke, The more he was enamored. She glance his way And smiled, not knowing That in that gesture She stole his heart. Just as he was about To stand, To join them, To introduce himself, To join this battle of words, His woman appeared. She whispered naughty things, Delicious, seductive things, Things that would have made Him forget himself. Not this time, Or any time in the future. He spread out the Roughly sewn patchwork Of words he had planned to tell her, Then he bid her goodbye, Slipping out of her grasp. He didn't join The brother and sister, He just walked out of the bar. He was not that kind of guy, The kind that would Break up with one woman And pursue another In the space of five minutes. It was two weeks later When he saw the sister again, This time, he joined her, This time, he introduced himself, This time, he planned to be with A woman that stimulated him Mind, body and soul.