horrible posture
Breitling doors swing
back to me
no arse on long legs
stiff together

salute nothing
he snaps a turn
cigarette packet
in a blue chest pocket
starched stiff

weary eyes
survey the scene
lock on mine
unsure what I want
averted gaze

a blond girl walks between us
trips a stone and nearly falls
I watch her walk away, embarrassed
she enters Breuninger
I look back at my man, searching
where is he?
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