by Jeff Glovsky
The crisp air snaps pretty and mightily…Through my teeth, I can feel it slice my skin. Icy tingles, tense nerve endings, terrible shivers…
I ask how you can wear a skirt.
You ignore me. That’s your prerogative. You cross your thighs, apply some makeup…Purse your lips and paint and blush.
We rise when the boat docks (you uncross your thighs)…I say, “Have a nice day. Keep warm (or try)!”
You smile dryly. “Thanks,” you sigh, and rush off.