The Paisley Dress
Cold sores coming into flower, more than one, but less than four. A shiny pointy chin and white teeth beautiful. In a three-piece suit, he stands in that classic brown, with a comb in his pocket, and a mullet of hair, parted sideways.
He smiles at his lover, wearing a dress that looks like a curtain, paisley leaves in places like Eve. Happy saucer eyes and bits of pastry on lips and chest, maybe cleavage too. She also has a mullet of hair, parted sideways.
On the edge of the platform, they kiss intently, gently at first, but then roughening up a little, red flowers from the corner shop blooming, price tag attached, the Amtrak from New York Penn to Boston, leaving soon.
thirteen-dollar bunch,
wild hedge, bright open poppies,
young lovers smiling.