Truth in Twos

I sat there in the swirl of head, beer foaming elegantly like froth from an ocean churning motion, soon to disappear- another glass fill of draft I would tell the bar tenderess. I told her that beauty is a simple diamond that shines only when beckoned to look at- she smiled in the dim bar-room lights, not knowing exactly what the hell I was talking about, and went about her business. I think I was hitting on her, and I think she thought I would be luckier hitting the floor with drunkenness. In walked a man and sat in the stool next over to me, he was a charmer to woman, I supposed just because he exposed flashiness. I looked away not wanting to swell more pride- I also learned that we tend not look at things we cannot have, and that eyes are better left undone. The man ordered himself a bottle of Corona with a twist of lime, and moved closer to me asking if anyone was sitting at the stool next to me. I burped out a "yea, Emily is sitting there." Of course this was the bar tenderess, again she smiled and this time she spoke up "not quite, still doing my job." "But you will be here soon after your shift, " I added. She rolled her eyes in acceptance to the humor or invitation, bouncing deliciously away. "Mr. Emmea, " he said with an extended hand. "Mama-mia, what kind of name is that? " "Italian, " he replied, making a sour face with a taste of his lime. "Single? " "As a line, hook and sinker in the ocean, " I replied. "I know the walk." "Whoa, a looker like you? Single! Horseshit! " "I am, " he said rather poignant. "Are not" "Am" "Are not" "Look, if I told you the leaves are falling, would you believe me? " he asked testing. I told him probably not, and went to look out the window. The leaves were still there stagnant and attached to the branches. Who am I kidding, I told myself, it's yet summer they're not going anywhere yet. "Death is like that, " he said, "so young, so shiny, so frail." He told me true answers usually come in twos. I told him that can't be right, cause I met two woman today and they both walked away. I thought he was rather dark and pessimistic, and asked him his first name, he told me Luke. Standing up from his half-empty bottle of Corona, with the lime wedge squeezed dry to the bottom, he walked out the bar. Reminding me of this one fella I use to know a few years back, confident yet quiet, tacky as a nail who went by the name Lou, his last name Kemia that is. The next day an unusual strong wind swept through boisterously and unexpected, shocked the weatherman who shrugged it off as 30% chance of light drizzle- overt umbrellas blown from tight closed fists tumbling and rolling in Manhattan alleys, true green leaves stripped, knocked out of summer. Bare bark trees staring back at me.