The Uninvited Gesture

The cashier stammered, fumbling with the screen.

My patience frayed, a thin, stretched-out cord.

And then it happened, ugly, quick, and mean,

a gesture that I instantly abhorred.

My wrist, it flicked, a sharp, dismissive wave.

A 'stupid, move along,' without a sound.

The way he did it, every time he gave

a judgment, sending foolishness to ground.

A shock, to see his ghost possess my hand.

All these years fighting, trying to be free.

But here it was, a mark I understand

was always there, deep down, a part of me.

His shadow, etched, a sudden, stark surprise.

Reflected in my own disgusted eyes.