Candi V. Auchterlonie

Personal things in public places

“do you even love me?”

She asked him in red desperation,

As he ate great globs of triangle cut pineapple chunks from the deli

section, replying to her derelict question, in a begrudging manner-

“yah, I do...”

As if it was a falsified attempt to show some semblance of what

they were. They stand in silence, waiting for the groceries to

trundle down the conveyer belt,

Bag of pure green apples, hope filled leeks,

purple sky eggplant, scarlet strawberries,

lucky charms,

fruit snacks crazy as the colours of a crayon box,

cigarette box- the mysterious smokey quartz of adultery,

And the white picket fence dream that began it all, milk-

“Paper or plastic?” the young cashier asks,

as she carelessly blows pink bubble gum bubbles,

wearing azure blue eyeshadow,

ivory white cleavage showing,

Unaware of her allure on the men passing through.

“paper says the wife.”

“plastic says the husband”

simultaneously.

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