12 Past Noon

It was twelve past noon on a rainy Sunday afternoon
When she just happened to walk straight into my umbrella
Shocked by her appearance, by her very presence
I stood numb for a couple seconds
She seemed familiar though
In that unsettling way of course
I offered to walk her to her destination
Walk her wherever her heart desired

Though she did unsettled me
That was what kept me wanting to know more
And as we walked through puddles down Cherry street
She pulled me into an old store filled with vintage everything
Suddenly her eyes seemed to have brighten
Her smile seemed to get wider
Like she had finally come back home
After a long day of  tedious work

The words coming out of her soft delicate lips
Flowed like the sound of a humming bird
Softly singing the song of lust in and out of my ears
She pulled me around the store
Pointing out china dolls with half broken faces
And half torn books with faded print

She seemed to glide through that store
As she put on old fifties hats and making poses
In the stand up mirror
Her presence seemed to fill the store with a passion
With a glow that shown in her eyes
But suddenly she said
“Oh no I have to go. I guess this is good-bye.”