The fluorescent lights were humming

The fluorescent lights were humming

over the generic dandruff soap.

I saw your jacket first, that denim

with the grease stain near the cuff.

My basket hit the tile.

Shampoo bottles rolled like logs.

I didn't stay to pick them up.

I just walked into the rain.

My tongue found the jagged edge

of the incisor you broke in the kitchen

three winters ago.

I’m still carrying the wreckage

of a 'no' that didn't stick.