The door of the change room opens, and she
\nsteps out in unaccustomed yellow.
\nA tiny fricative escapes his lips
\nlike methane hissing from a newly punctured
\ncan of slightly spoiled soup. He smiles, admires
\nthe label, but the stench hovers over the area:
\nneither wants to taste it.<\/p>\n
On the way home, a fashionable green dress
\nwith maroon accents lies in the bag on her lap.
\nShe smiles; he smiles: her misty gaze takes in
\nthe endless row houses to the side; he focuses
\non the elusive yellow phantom pushing just beyond
\nthe range of the headlights.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The door of the change room opens, and she steps out in unaccustomed yellow. A tiny fricative escapes his lips like methane hissing from a newly punctured can of slightly spoiled soup. He smiles, admires the label, but the stench … Continue reading