We all have lives,
this cannot be argued
no matter the girth or the slight
however, the notoriety or discretion,
each idiosyncratic measure of
who we are
can only be truly defined
But, you knew that already,
that’s why last night downtown with the boys,
you made an ass of yourself,
went up to her and told her you thought,
she was a slut,
because just minutes later
you wagered with your inebriations
that you could score with the rudest commentary.
Why she smiled,
it turned you on,
you glanced back at your problems
hinting a forward motion.
When you looked back in her eyes,
her delight just made you swoon,
forgetting about that initial commentary
now recognizing she really is pure elegance…
Damned if she didn’t give you her number,
even I sitting nearby was disturbed by that.
You walked away smug,
she joined her girlfriend and you physically disappeared in her mind,
even though you could still see she was
maintaining her sort of human condition in the crowd.
The boys, the posse, the conquest moved
to the other tavern
where the sure thing had been told.
you crammed the napkin with her number in your tight jeans,
and forgot about her for the rest of the night,
because along came Jenni, Sarah, Michelle, and anon …
sorting out pockets
where when unfolding the napkin,
Jill’s name appeared in a scrawl.
It took you a minute or two to recall
who she was.
Who she was.
Who she really was!
Then you dialed the number
to reach a disconnection,
blew her off and called her a ‘bitch’
for giving you the wrong number.
A few days later,
while stepping off the train
to go to work,
your normal morning routine,
there was a delay,
a procession of sorts,
they were all sort of familiar,
each wearing the same veils,
another typical gathering that occurred
nearby your building, in that park,
where families grieved,
never any reason to bear notice.
you wanted to glance further,
there was a familiar elegance,
that couldn’t really be defined,
some energy, that asked you,
refine your arrogance
just this one time.
Turns out she did give you the wrong number
a purposeful gesture for a woman protecting herself
from the constant barrage of harassment,
yet tonight when she went home,
she couldn’t get the word out of her head,
too mindful of four years earlier in college,
when the hot breath of that stranger
impelled her world forever,
leaving her cold and barren,
she knew tonight with your clarity,
she could never really let go.
Today there appeared so much love in that gathering.