The Affair with the Robes and Mirror

i avoid direct eye contact with
her,
because she always knows the contents
of my pockets,
and I understand what she means
when she blinks twice
before looking down, or once
without hesitation,
and then smiling at me.

we rattle
the walls,
cities,
and local taverns,
a chance encounter
at the redhead piano bar,
our meetings less frequent
every time.
a common misconception
between friends.

what happens when the shutters
are pulled?
what happens when
you kiss me on mouth?

a smoke screen,
an illusion.
we keep it friendly.

she avoids me,
often.

there is a certain warmth about
her,
when she wants there to be.
she tries too hard.
she never stays long.

i am wearing my favorite
smoking jacket, with the gold
trim on the collar.
she smokes.
my back facing her,
i watch her blow smoke rings
through the mirror.

she is wearing my robe
and nothing else.
the robe is open.

title is a line from Perelandra by C.S. Lewis

Aaron M. Cassara is currently attending Harper College and is the literary editor of the school’s art and literature magazine. He has a growing collection of poetic works and is in the process of writing a collaborative Chicago themed short story collection. He hosts an open mic every other Thursday in Frohman’s, a café bellow his Humboldt Park apartment.