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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.
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