Aisle 3



Aisle 3

Her arm is long and kissing
and she’s gliding down Aisle 3
Eyes widening—as if she’s meeting
a new friend in every piece

OMG! Did I really just see
a sleeve reach out and halt her?
Seriously, something strange
just happened—before my own eyes
to our beloved shopper

I see blushing
I see satisfaction 
I see spinning
I see blooming

Did a red jacket really choose a lady
in the shithole
where I work
on a Tuesday 
on Isle 3?


Z

 

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