You Don't Know Me
I.
She's pretty but terse.
Auburn hair
with a spattering of freckles
across the middle of her face,
fading at the edges.
A relatively wide mouth,
thin at the edges
with a pucker of full lips in the centre.
Maroon and dark red
accent her hair while
the black rids her of her girlish beauty
and adds an element of sophistication.
Silent and still,
she listens to her phone's music.
II.
Jovial,
almost unbearably so.
Salt and pepper scattered
haphazardly atop his head;
nearly too well groomed.
His uncouth smile forces crows feet
from untouched eyes.
Sparkling teeth
and trimmed facial hair match
the wife ironed collar,
bleached to pallid perfection,
under a dusky blazer.
An extended hand in greeting
is a little too robotic.
III.
Skeptical glances
behind purple frames.
Crisp and clean in beige and white
with business black beneath.
Straight and sleek
in posture and gaze,
but nothing approachable
in the plastic contours of her face.
Pretty,
without much effort
yet too aloof, cool, and remote.
Competitive determination resonates
from her pointed shoes
to her dark, flattened mane.
IV.
She sings her songs in her head,
unconsciously lip syncing and tapping her fingers
yet her face reveals no pleasure.
Almost forlorn,
her wide pouty lips arch downward
and when she tries to smile
a falter prevents it from reaching her eyes.
Slow moving and deliberate,
watchful but not attentive.
No make-up and frazzled hair
pulled loosely into a pony;
She has better things to do.
Glasses style and face placement
screams reader.
V.
Clean and well-kept,
nothing special;
plain navy sweater on jeans
with revealing, dusty work boots.
Curls gelled and hanging limp to his shoulders
emphasize his receding line.
He has a young face,
stern,
with sharp cold eyes that shine fiercely,
daring a confrontation.
Glasses at his neckline,
but not worn,
allows him to show off his manicured face
even though he needs a trim.
VI.
A fuss of dirty grey
under a tainted, pine green toque.
Filthy,
with a too-big wind breaker
and super tight, faded jeans.
Plastic bags from who-knows where
holding who-knows what.
Old, old sneakers from paths long traveled.
Wobbly and absent-minded
yet resonating openness
and a hearty, welcoming laugh.
Amiable, pleasant, polite,
talkative.
He visits his mothers grave at 3am.
