Meeting A Cheater…


I met him
after years in a train,
~ an unavoidable prank
of the elf kismet,
forced to paste
a fake smile
trimmed to perfection
to avoid misinterpretation.

he had
silver in his hair
and crowfeet too,
but that smile
was still slimy~
dipped in cheese sauce
and rancid too
stale from overuse.

fixing my eyes
to the pages of a novel
I doggedly pretended
concentration and indifference
to discourage
any conversation,
despite hints of cleared throat
voiced hesitantly.

he settled behind
a reluctantly spread newspaper,
oft sipping noisily
from a lukewarm cup
of dishwater cappuccino.

the train halted
he descended for water, chips(whatever)
I hastily picked his cup
and spit in it,
for once glad for
the scanty number of passengers
travelling with us,
and hid my smile
behind the ignored novel
lest I burst out laughing…


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