Pas de Deux
She always works the casino bar
at 4 PM, gone by 8,
like clockwork in this room
without clocks, windows smoked
so no one sees a sunset.
And I wonder about this:
Why the afternoon?
Do working girls get nights off?
Work a second shift?
What does she do on
those long weekends when
they bring their wives
for guilt shopping and atonement?
We made eye contact once,
measuring possibilities until
she threw me back
to continue my own vices,
sip this sour bourbon,
wondering why I’m always here
at 4 PM without a clock or window
with lips unused to conversation.
