Gas station girl

Wears different earrings each visit

One day she wore gold, the next she wore pearls

 

Such delicate material

In this hidden and dingy 76

Your presence is ethereal

 

I stand among humming machinery

As you walk in, scratching your nose 

Brown eyes flickering over the lottery 

 

“Your earrings are great”

I say in my head

In the silence you smile and ask, “Pump 8?”

 

I hear  the familiar chime as you leave

And watch you do the littler things

And imagine if you’re exactly as you seem

 

Gas station girl

In my isolation at the 76

I wonder what it’s like to be in your world

And wear earrings of gold and earrings of pearls