The man in front of me
is socially perfect the way
that men are good dancers
on their wedding day.
I can imagine that he’s
been training daily for this
casual conversation he’s
sparked with his unattractive waitress.
I imagine that when he
leaves, holding his smile until
the door, he’ll quickly exhale
the nervous breath he took
when walking into this everyday
shop, whose clientele and coffee are both
rather unremarkable.
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