she looks down at her soup
after flashing me a wide-mouthed open smile,
no words emerge, though.
I marvel at how white her teeth are
against her dark skin, the glitter in
her lipstick is just enough to be
beautiful.
I wish she would talk to me.
she tells me her soup is good
and checks the bill carefully, noting
that she was not charged for her tea.
I hope I would have told the waitress,
I think she counts her money carefully.
When I dropped her off, she said she
enjoyed her lunch and thanked me
for inviting her.
One never knows.
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