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
Copyright © Dylan Wong | Year Posted 2013
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