Monday Morning

Monday Morning

”Bacon, egg and cheese. Everything bagel. Toasted.”

I smile. And wait. Holding out my debit card.

Stomach pangs; digesting barbed wire, and

the chemical taste of left over smoke

dries to ash on my arid tongue.

Polite smile now a crooked craze of pain.

My arm stammers towards her.

Sandpaper fingers graze my palm.

Transfixed by sensation, I examine her hand.

Cuticles peeled raw with pink horseshoes around

 each jagged fingernail. 

Deep crevices crack at each knuckle.

 A pale band of skin whimpers around her ring finger.

 “Miss…”

Dropping drowsy thoughts,

I turn toward the timid voice.

“Declined.” She said.

No argument, no cash.

I swallow the ash and say sorry to her ring finger.

The card in my limp palm

falls to brown tiles at my feet.