In hindsight, what did we have in common?
The early eighties, I was in my Evangelical phase,
praising or condoning in every sentence,
throwing—not the first, but certainly the second stone.
At the jewelry counter Lonnie asked me
to demonstrate how I put on my eye liner.
Was his line thin enough? He wanted
enhancement, not ridicule.
I complimented his technique
though I asked
why a perfectly beautiful male
would wear makeup.
Lonnie and I gossiped in Accessories,
visited in Men’s where we discussed
the lack of quality in the raw linen,
sat together for lunch in the breakroom
where I’d lament my conflictions
working retail.
A fledgling model, he gave me a photo
from his latest portfolio. Stunning,
and an overt line under his eyes.
After work he walked me
to Seafirst Tower where my fiancé worked,
until my fiancé’s rudeness drove Lonnie away.
So many overlooked details.
