good talk

what exactly are
you looking for
the therapist says
while you lie
prone on her couch
staring at the water
stain on her
white tiled
ceiling. i don't
know, you say,
glancing
around the room,
there are diplomas
in black frames
behind glass, and
some dried fake
flowers in a vase
on the sill.
an air freshener
is stuck to the
rattling radiator.
something
real, you blurt out,
someone simple
and yet complicated.
but with nice
legs. i really like
legs. nice legs,
she says. isn't
that a little
shallow. hey, you
say, leaning your
head up, aren't you
supposed to be helping
me, not judging me?
oh, right she says.
so we have a few
minutes left, let's
talk about your
desire to meet
someone with nice
legs. is she tall,
short, describe
her for me. is she
funny, smart too?
of course you say.
pffft. what am i some
kind of dope? okay,
okay, she says, so
tell me, did your
mother have nice
legs? you sit up
and stare at her,
what kind of a sick
question is that,
why are you bringing
my mother into this.
geez marie. she
scribbles a little
note onto her pad
then says, well
looks like our time
is up for today, good
talk good talk. i
think we're getting
some where.