On Sixth Avenue At 11pm

Gliding into a 7-11 I Lifted chips as fast as I could - Like a thief on a high - And dropped to the counter Where you were. A clear "how may I help you" with a smile Each word laced with decayed honey My jaw dropped. Sincerity Lay below, I knew But yours was a coat of fine sugar I could have held it forever A thing I have never Done before If the lights had blinked then I would have scratched my initials on the counter and with it my number and perhaps an artificial heart For thou art- A delightful face Not one I will ever face again For if the lights went back on I would be gone