The Bar

She smiled at me when I sat down.
What a woman,
the type you find in a dream.
She sat at the bar and sipped her drink,
ignored everyone in the room.
She was much too beautiful for them;
reeking of gin
cheap cigars,
the bottle with the old sailor ship;
businessmen who told their wives

“Hey, I’m working, I’ll be home later.”

Yeah, it was one of those days;

a Tuesday, and nobody felt like working
just to remain in debt.

“Your phone will still scream
at 6 am, leeches to suck you dry!”

We came to forget about our lives
but only for a while because nothing is forever.

I ordered another drink then went to the bathroom to fix.
When I returned to the bar her smile had vanished
(but vanished only when she looked at me)

after she glanced down at the crevice of my left arm,
she walked out of The Bar, 
leaving her glass half full
and a cigarette dying
in the turquoise marble ashtray.



**This poem was written by me. It’s published in a book called “Silent Screams: poetic journeys through Addiction and Recovery” edited by Nathaniel Granger Jr. and Louis Hoffman for their “Poetry Healing and Growth Series”


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