The bus was twenty minutes late

The bus was twenty minutes late

so I stepped into the store where everything is beige.

The velvet chair was the color of a bruise

and had a card that said Please refrain.

I ran my thumb across the nap anyway.

The grease from the shift, the salt of my skin,

flattened the fibers into a dark, wet map.

I left a shadow there

that no one is going to buy.