Table Watching.

“Crash, heartache heading your way boy, when I look into her icy porcelain face. Pretty english girl looks — china shop white skin and black straight hair, but more than English, something mixed in there to make her more exotic, maybe half Japanese, and very beautiful. But may I tell you, kind eager guy, run for your life. She’s fine and special and complicated in ways you will be so sorry to learn about and she’ll do you serious damage dear. She leans back in her seat, stretched as far away from him as she can. Nothing on the menu is right. Something he did last night, brings a slightly sour expression to her face. Run now.”

More poetry from Halley Suitt.

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