What Colors the Steel Sky Blue

My dissaproval of you is the only thing that
stands between you and I as we sit
across each other in a Village bar.

Your eyes shift to my left and then to my right
I pretend not to notice and speak on
hoping that my paranoia is weaker
than your six dollar long island ice tea.

The bottom of the glass arrives sooner
than that dreaded end of the night.
Once I laid that glass down
I just was not in the mood to fight.

You climbed down the steps to the F train entrance
I saw you and your train pull out and get lost
into the summer stench of China Town.

Waiting on an uptown platform,
I thought I should have waved
and pointed at the service change poster
but I'm not sure you were looking back.

Troy James Vega