MISSED OPPORTUNITIES

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She sits back in the chair

Picking her confidence up from the floor

Licking her fingers

and running a current up her spine.

Catching a suit admiring her she turns to him.

HIM.

Before her.

Sprawled out,

Legs beyond the width of the table.

His shirt damp under the pits

stretching his limbs as if to

overtake her or envelope the entire table with his stomach.

Now that she's arrived she's in no rush.

Sipping on her tea, watching his limbs, wondering

when exactly they would quake felt like a deep breath.

You missed an opportunity in this life, she says.

His neck swivels jerking his head back. 

He's ready.

You'll scoff I think.

She can't hold her composure and just there, escapes a tiny grin.

You lost an opportunity in this life. Not having children.

The table closest loses cutlery to the floor.

I think... people like me. And maybe that's you too. I don't know.

I don't actually know who you are. But maybe.

She takes a long sip and studies the tea leaves.

His left knee shaking in the periphery.

I didn't want children. Scowling she looks at him.

I did not want children. I didn't even see them.

They were invisible to me.

But... I think people like me need to have children.

She sets the cup on the table. Pulls an arm around her neck,

giving it a final stretch before taking her final lap.

Hmmmm. She hums sweetly.

But you don't think it's sexy?

Her eyes run to the man in the corner.

There isn't anything sexier.

She clears her throat.

Hm. Well all this while you make me feel

as if I should be a prude.

And here, my heart craves real conversation... poetry.

Dabbing her mouth with the napkin, she says, anyway,

I'm pretending that you're listening.