Love and Death in a Kwik Trip by Scott Sorenson

We are choosing something to drink
In a Kwik Trip at one in the morning
After getting naked in your mom’s Lexus.
My smoothie is blending on the other side of the store
And you’ve got your hand on your chin,
Peering through the glass like this peach tea
Will change everything.

The cashier does not know that you have just become
The second person in my life to call me sexy
And the third girl I’ve ever been naked with.
She didn’t see us giggle,
The way you wrapped your hand around the back of my head
And held my lips to yours
Like someone was trying to pull us apart.
That feels tragic, but it’d probably be odd
To inform a cashier of our activities–
She’s a stranger.
Then again, so were you five hours ago.
Maybe if we just tell this lady what just happened,
She’ll take a liking to us.
Maybe she’ll become our best friend
And she’ll be the maid of honor when we get married,
And the cake will be lavender
Like your perfume.
We’ll say our vows in Aisle 6,
Have a few Sour Patch kids and raise them right
(Sweet little rascals),
And when they’re grown we’ll drink wine with the cashier
And talk about politics,
And I’ll die before you but you’ll keep sending our friend Christmas cards
While you read poetry to the sky and die a slow, happy death
On papasan cushions.

We do not tell this woman any of this,
Because she is busy
And you need cheap tea
And you’ve got to be in Eau Claire
By morning.
I understand.
Hookups only ever last one night.
As we turn to go, though,
I can almost swear she winks at me.