chance meeting

behind you,
in the convenience
store,
a woman
leans into your
shoulder, touching
you. she whispers,
don't eat that.
it's bad for you.
and that water,
look at the bottom,
do you see those
numbers, the little
triangle, it's
telling you to be
careful after
a certain date.
thanks, you say,
looking back.
her face is a detailed
road map of
her life with
lots of detours
and dead ends,
crashes,
but her lips are
cherry red. like waxed
lips bought as a
kid for Halloween.
when she opens her
mouth, her teeth are
little yellowed
tombstones.
she follows you out,
and hands you a card.
we should get together,
she says. I do
legal services, so if
you're ever in trouble
I can help you.
I also do dog walking.
you look at the card
and nod, thanks.
she follows you to
your car. what's your
name? do you have a
card too, we could do
business together.
maybe we could have a
drink. I don't have any
more cards you tell her.
but here's my number.
you write down a fake
number, a fake name.
and hand it to her.
I can feel something
between us she says,
reaching out her hand
to shake yours, don't
you feel it too?
yeah, I guess, sort of
you say, but I have
to go now, and drive
away.