barnes & nobles

we were total opposites from the get go.
you had one book.
i carried a mountains worth, like gus from cinderella, balancing the tall stack under my chin.
the coffe bar was elevated, some higher plane of javaness than the rest of the store and patrons.
i saw your face through the slats my hands grasping for just one more paperback.

were you looking at me?
hard to say.
i carefully found the steps with my feet and joined your java hut.
my table married to the trash bin but all the better to see you from.

the butch on your left turned out to be your son, or is it grandson?
he left while you read feing shui.
i thought, i could find you a better book. i've read that one and it's no good.
i thought about foraging the store to find one.
but instead i watched until you watched.
i blushed until you blushed.
i caught you until you caught me.

while you were bent below the table tying your lace, the smallest bit of hair flowing down and brushing the brim of your nose, your son's nose, your grandson's nose.
i could see your long delicate fingers maneuver the lace like plucking strings of a guitar, i followed the hair line crack from a smile down the length of your cheek.
it was a lovley view.

when your husband, or is it exhusband, or baby daddy
appeared infront of you
i smiled openly and stared without abaondon.
what could you do? look back and blow your cover?

when you rose to follow him into the endless stacks of books
you paused a bit long too beside my table.
too close for me to look directly
and blow my cover.
my hands balancing the book of andrienne rich poetry chuckled
"it would have been good"

while your eyes traced the outline of my face
i continued to stare down the words on my page
all seemingly wishpering
"go back to being yourself: a mother, or grandmother, or wife."


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