I watched him
in the cliche cafe
with my mispelt name on the side of my mocha latte
peering over my laptop
like a peeping Tom on a tree limb
His easy smile
stretched across his scraggly bearded face
his arm draped across the back of a chair
I hated that chair
wanted it to be me his arm was draped on
I swore his eyes caught mine
like a fly caught in a spider's web
I was locked in a memory
that never was
Or perhaps yet to be
Riding in a convertible
wind in our hair
him smiling with his arm draped across my back
laughing about the funniest things
destination unimportant
"PING!" notification from my mother
she wants to know if I can express her dog's anal glands
he likes to scoot his butt across her bed when they're full
Mr smiley beard gets up with his friend tossing away his cup
he turns, winks at the pretty barista, and walks away
My hair would've gotten knotted in a convertible
Bugs would've gotten in my teeth
my mocha latte would've ended up in my lap
or worse, in his lap causing him to wreck
his car and ruin his white linen pants
I pack up my laptop and head out
thinking how I dodged a bullet on that one
I need to control my sexiness or next time it might
cost some poor handsome bastard his life
I think I'll stop and get some grape juice on the way home
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