Jill Chan

Occupation

You know
the hue of his lips
The smoothness of them
you can see
though not know


The coldness of the table glass
shining
next to the newly unoccupied chair
still alive in outline

Go over
watch, glasses pennies
phone card, fingerprint, hair
mirror, you
Stop

You hear key in lock
Turn
with a ready smile
Questioning
without a thought to the answer.