He’s b4 me in the checkout line, checking out my stuff.
I check out his. A 6-pack, some peaches,
a couple of steaks.
He has blue
eyes, not your typical come-on smile.
I nod imperceptibly.
There’s muzak. It’s the 3rd of July.
Outside, the heat is frying eggs on the
He winks. Brushes a stray black hair from his forehead.
I’d eat everything in your basket, he grins.
It’s not my usual market.
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