her new melons

you see marla
in the grocery store.
work has been done
you think as you watch her
bump into
the tomato pyramid sending
a few rolling on the floor.
there is a permanent look
of surprise on her face.
she doesn't see you,
the world is a blur
without her glasses, so
you yell.
hey marla, which makes
her turn and squint
as she pushes her cart towards you.
she's more blonde now,
teetering on heels, more
something else,
something you can't quite
put your finger on.
what do you think she says,
after saying hello.
about what, you ask,
these, she pushes
her breasts out, and looks down
at the two large scoops of vanilla
nearly pouring out
of her tight blouse.
they're new, she says,
just got them two weeks ago.
go ahead and feel them.
really?
yes, she says,
to which you say, well,
okay, then look around
to see if anyone is watching.
you poke one with a finger,
then the other one.
they feel hard, they feel
soft. mushy,
like melons going south
at the end of a long summer.
nice, you say.
they look great.
everyone loves them, well,
gotta run, she says. I have
a date tonight. new guy.
great seeing you again,
and off you both go in
different directions.