“i am,”
she said
“the kind of girl
you don’t see around these parts.”

“oh really?”
he said, raising a dark eyebrow.
she didn’t like the look
of him
but he sure did
of her.

the conversation fell
stiffly
starched
ungracefully unsmooth.
she pursed her mouth
refusing to let her thoughts roam aloud
shut away
mute.

but he read them
and he read them
again
until they were strung together on thread:
bright
gossamer pearls.

and this
he bestowed upon her
and for this
she finally spoke for
once more.

“oh love,”
he sighed,
“is a funny thing.”