A girl and a boy with wolfish eyes,
He stands behind her in line,
And grabs her wrists tight,
Hugging
Squeezing
Pressing against her.
Don't stare.
He kisses her bared shoulder.
Don't watch.
She turns.
Don't.
And smiles.
It's none of my business.
So why do I care?
Their hands are clasped like a couple in a commercial,
the representation of perfect bliss.
Is it disgust I feel,
Or jealousy?
YOU ARE READING
Poems Don't Have to Rhyme
PoesíaPoetry collection. Some of it is pretty good, most of it is pretty bad.
