If You're Selling, I'm Buying

We meet in the home decor department.
He says I look like I have good taste.

I say I look like someone who doesn't make commission but I will pick out a tapestry if he promises to buy it.

He fucking buys it.

A forest painted on fabric, he buys it.
A succulent for my dining room table, he buys it.
A string of lights to hang in my bedroom, he buys it.

"It's just to thank you for picking out my tapestry."

I'm not buying it.

Over dinner, I don't buy it.
At the bowling alley, I don't buy it.
In his shower, I don't buy it.
Over breakfast, I buy it the least.

We sit across from each other, eating waffles.

"I wasn't thinking you had good taste."
Syrup dripping.
"I was thinking you tasted good."
Fork clattering.
"I was thinking we could do it again."
Orange juice sipping.

It turns out I do have good taste.

Poetry by MsImaginary
Read 42 times
Written on 2018-06-27 at 18:54

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